


ERMON5 

FOR. 

QilLDREN 




BY 



DeaK Stanley 




w 



SERMONS 
FOR CHILDREN 



SERMONS FOR CHILDREN 



INCLUDING 



THE BEATITUDES AND THE FAITHFUL SERVANT 



PREACHED IN WESTMINSTER ABBEY 



BY 

ARTHUR PENRHYN STANLEY, D.D. 

LATE DEAN OF WESTMINSTER 



NEW YORK 
CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS 
1900 
All Rights Reserved 



■J^ 



J 



y s\ 



PREFACE. 

These Sermons, having been found to interest 
many young persons into whose hands they came 
when privately printed, are now published in the 
hope that they may be of use to a wider circle of 
readers. 

They have been reproduced as correctly as the 
rough state of the Author's Manuscript permitted ; 
but it is obvious that, in some places, either the 
manuscript has been inaccurately deciphered, or 
the Preacher supplemented what he had written by- 
additions at the moment. 

The concluding Sermon, on 'The Faithful 
Servant/ though not addressed specially to children, 
and not preached in the Abbey, seemed from its 
personal and familiar character to have a proper 
place in this volume. 



CONTENTS. 

SERMON PAGE 

I. The Child Jesus (1871) . . .1 

II. Little Children, love one another 

(1*73) IO 

III. The Use of Children (1874) . . 20 

IV. The < Goliath' Boys (1875) . . 32 
V. The Children's Psalms (1876) . . 44 

VI. Sick Children (1877) . . . 54 

VII. St. Christopher (1878) ... .67 

VIII. The Children's Creed (1879) • • 76 

IX. Talitha Cumi (1880) . . .87 

X. The Beatitudes (1881) . . . 95 

XI. The Beatitudes (1881) . . . 104 

XII. The Beatitudes (1881) . . .113 

XIII. The Beatitudes (1881) . . . 122 

XIV. The Faithful Servant (1856) . . 132 



SERMONS FOR CHILDREN. 



i. 

THE CHILD JESUS. 

(December 28, 1871.) 

And the child grew, and 'waxed 'strong in spirit, filled with 
wisdom : and the grace of God was upon Hi?n. — Luke ii. 40. 

This day is called the day of the Holy Innocents, 
because it calls upon us to remember the death of 
those little children who were killed at Bethlehem 
at the time of our Saviour's birth, when He also 
was a little child like them. It is also a day 
famous in this Abbey, because it was on this day, 
more than eight hundred years ago, that this great 
church was finished by its first founder, King 
Edward the Confessor, who was himseif an inno- 
cent, guileless man, almost like a little child. We 
have thought, therefore, that it might be good to 
mark this day by gathering together here as many 

B 



THE CHILD JESUS. serm. i. 



children as could come, and putting before them 
the example which our Saviour set to all children, 
He having been Himself a little child and a little 
boy, such as those who are here to-day. For this 
purpose the different passages of Scripture have 
been chosen that have been sung or read to- 
day ; the eighth Psalm in order that you might 
see how little children may find out the glory of 
God in the great works of nature, the beautiful 
sights and sounds that they see and hear around 
them ; the fifteenth Psalm in order to show how, 
from our earliest years down to our latest age, 
that in which God finds most pleasure is the 
humble, pure, truthful, honourable mind ; and the 
one hundred and twenty-seventh Psalm in order 
to impress upon parents what precious, inestim- 
able gifts are given to them in their little children. 
And the anthem has been chosen in order to 
remind all who are young how precious to them 
are the days of their youth, and how the one thing 
which they must bear in mind from first to last 
is to ' fear God and keep His commandments, for 
this is the whole duty of man ; ' and the hymn in 
order to show how all of us, even the youngest, 
may come to our gracious Saviour to ask Him to 
have pity upon us. And the lessons were chosen, 



serm. i. THE CHILD JESUS. 3 

the first in order to remind you how little Samuel 
knelt upon his knees at morning and evening, 
waiting for the voice of God to tell him what he was 
to do ; and the second lesson — which is what I will 
specially speak of now — because in it we have the 
example of our Saviour Himself as the little child. 
Let me, then, draw from these words what may be 
useful both for the parents and friends of those 
children who are here, and also, I hope, for the 
children themselves, if they will listen to what I say. 
First of all it is said, ' The child ' — that is, 
the child Jesus— 'grew,' He grew in stature, and 
He grew in character and goodness. He did not 
stand still. Although it was God Himself who 
was revealed to us in the life of Jesus Christ, yet 
this did not prevent Him from being made like 
unto us in all things, sin only excepted. It has 
been reverently and truly said, — 

Was not our Lord a little child, 

Taught by degrees to pray ; 
By father dear and mother mild 

Instructed day by day ? ! 

Yes, He was ; we need not fear to say so, and in 
this lies the example for us. Each one of us, 
whether old or young, must remember that pro- 

1 Christian Year : The Catechism. 

B 2 



4 THE CHILD JESUS. serm. i. 

gress, improvement, going on, advance, change 
into something better and better, wiser and wiser, 
year by year — that this is the only condition, the only 
way of our becoming like Christ, and, therefore, 
like God. Do not think that you will always be, 
that you must always be, as you are now. No ; 
you will grow up gradually to be something very 
different ; you must increase and grow in mind as 
well as in body, in wisdom as well as in stature. 
The world moves, and you and all of us must move 
with it. God calls us, one and all, ever to some- 
thing higher and higher, and that higher stage you 
and I and the whole world must reach by steadily 
advancing towards it. 

And then come three things especially which 
the text puts before us as those in which our 
Lord's earthly education, the advance and im- 
provement of His earthly character, added to His 
youthful and childlike powers. First, it speaks of 
His strength of character. It says, He ' waxed 
strong in spirit.' Strong ! What a word is that 
for all of you, my dear children. You know — 
little boys especially know — how you value and 
honour those who are strong in body. The strong 
limb, the fleet foot, the sturdy arm, the active 
frame, you do well to value these things ; they 



serm. I. THE CHILD JESUS. 5 

are God's gifts. The hardihood which can endure 
blows without flinching, and toil without fatigue, 
which can win the race, conquer in the game, 
or vanquish in the struggle of life — these are ex- 
cellent gifts ; and it is one of the worst evils of 
intemperance or dissipation that they spoil and 
destroy this glory of natural health and vigour 
which God gives to you. But it is not of this 
strength that the text speaks, or that I would now 
speak to you. What natural vigour is to the body, 
strength of character is to the mind. A stout 
heart, that is what you want — a stout heart which 
will be able to resist all the temptations to do 
evil, which scorns to tell a lie, which will never 
consent to be betrayed into doing what is wrong ; 
a strong, hardy conscience, which fixes itself on 
matters of real importance, and will not trifle, 
will not waste its powers on things of no concern. 
Therefore, I say, be stronger and stronger every 
year. I could not say to you, perhaps, be stronger 
in body every year, for that is not within our own 
power, if we have it not ; but I can say be stronger 
in spirit, be strong in mind, be strong in character, 
be stout in heart, for this does come by trying to 
have it. It comes by being always reminded that 
it will come if you strive to get it. It comes to 



6 THE CHILD JESUS. serm. . 

those who are determined to seek it. Be strong, 
therefore, and very courageous. 

And the next thing which the text speaks of 
is wisdom. It says the child was ' filled with 
wisdom.' Wisdom, as it were, was poured into 
Him, and His mind opened wider and wider to 
take it in. He drank in whatever wisdom there 
was in the knowledge of those about Him ; He 
drank in the heavenly wisdom also which comes 
down from the fountain of all wisdom. You, too, 
have this to gain day by day. Those of you especially 
who are at school are sent to school for that very 
purpose, to have your minds opened, to take in all 
that your teachers can pour into them, to be ready 
for this instruction whenever it comes to you from 
books, from looking at what you see about you, 
from conversation, from experience as you grow 
older in life. You need not be old before your 
time, but you must even now be making the best 
use of your time. These are the golden days 
which never come back to you, which if once lost 
can never be entirely made up. Our great King 
Alfred used to regret in after years nothing so 
much as that, owing to his long wanderings and 
troubles when he was young, he had not had the 
opportunity of regular instruction at school. Seek, 



serm. i. THE CHILD JESUS. 7 

therefore, for wisdom, pray for it, determine to 
have it ; and God, who gives to those who ask, will 
give it to you. Try to gain it as our Lord gained 
it when He was a child, by hearing and by asking 
questions. By hearing ; that is, by being teachable, 
and humble, and modest, by fixing your attention 
on what you have to learn. And also by asking 
questions, as He did ; that is, by trying to know the 
meaning of what you learn, by cross-questioning 
yourselves, by inquiring right and left to fill up the 
blanks in your minds. Nothing is more charming 
than to see a little child listening, not interrupting, 
but eager to hear what is taught. Nothing is more 
charming than to hear a little child asking questions. 
That is the only way in which we are able to know 
whether you take in what has been taught you. 

And the next thing is the grace or favour of 
God, or, as it says at the end of the chapter, the 
grace, or favour, of God and man ; the grace, the 
goodness, the graciousness of God, which calls 
forth grace, and goodness, and gratitude in man. 
Our blessed Lord had this always ; but even in 
Him it increased more and more. It increased as 
He grew older, as He saw more and more of the 
work which was given Him to do ; He felt more 
and more that God was his Father, and that men 



8 THE CHILD JESUS. serm. i. 

were His brothers, and that grace and loving- 
kindness was the best and the dearest gift from 
God to man, and from man to man, and from 
man to God. He was subject to his parents ; He 
did what they told Him ; and so He became dear 
to them. He was kind, and gentle, and courteous 
to those about Him, so that they always liked to 
see Him when he came in and out amongst them. 
So may it be with you. Look upon God as your 
dear Father in heaven, who loves you, and who 
wishes nothing but your happiness. Look upon 
your schoolfellows and companions as brothers, 
to whom you must show whatever kindness 
and forbearance you can. Just as this beautiful 
building in which we are assembled is made up of 
a number of small stones beautifully carved, every 
one of which helps to make up the grace and 
beauty of the whole, so is all the state of the 
world made up of the graces and goodnesses not 
only of full-grown men and full-grown women, 
but of little children who will be, at least if they 
live, full-grown men and full-grown women. Re- 
member, then, all you who are parents ; remember 
still more especially, all you who are children, 
remember this day • and if ever you are tempted 
to do wrong, or to be idle, or to be rude and 



serm. i. THE CHILD JESUS. 9 

careless, or to leave off s-aying your prayers, then 
think of your Saviour's good example which has 
been put before you to-night in Westminster 
Abbey. 



II. 

LITTLE CHILDREN, LOVE ONE 
ANOTHER. 

(December 27, 1873.) 

/ write unto you, little children, because ye have known 
the Father. — 1 John ii. 13. My little chilaren, let us not 
love in word, neither in tongue ; but in deed and in truth. — 
iii. 18. Little children, keep yourselves from idols. — v. 2,1. 
/ have no greater joy than to hear that my children walk in 
truth. — 3 John 4. 

The day on which this service is usually held is 
called Innocents' Day, from the little innocent 
children that were killed at Bethlehem. But as 
this year Innocents' Day falls on a Sunday, I have 
invited you here on this the day before, which 
is called St. John's Day, because it is the day on 
which we are called to think of the good apostle 
St. John. I shall say a few words to you about 
him. His memory was very deeply cherished by 
the good king who on Innocents' Day founded the 
Abbey, and it has been very dear to Christians 



serm. II. LITTLE CHILDREN. II 

always. When he was first a disciple of our Lord 
he was quite young, perhaps not much more than 
a boy. But there was something so winning about 
him that our Lord always kept him close to Him, 
and he was called the disciple whom Jesus loved. 
When our Lord was gone aw r ay into heaven, this 
disciple St. John, after living some time at Jerusa- 
lem with the other apostles, went to the great city 
of Ephesus, and there he lived on after all the 
other apostles were dead, and he was the only 
one left. There is a beautiful picture which 
some one has painted of the old man sitting on a 
rock quite alone, and looking up into heaven, and 
seeing there his former companions in that better 
world still busying themselves with doing good and 
holy things, as we hope that all those whom we 
have loved and admired on earth are doing still. 
It w T as whilst he was living there that various 
stories are told of him that we do not find in the 
Bible, and we cannot be sure that they are quite 
certainly true. But they are what the early 
Christians believed about him, and they agree so 
well with the letters or epistles which he wrote at 
that time, and from which I have taken the texts 
of this sermon, that I will try to tell them to you, 
and see what we can learn from them. 



12 LITTLE CHILDREN, serm. ii. 

One is this. There came one day a huntsman 
who had heard so much of this great, wise old man, 
that he went out of his way to see him ; and to his 
surprise he found St. John gently stroking a par- 
tridge which he held in his hand, and he could not 
help saying how surprised he was to see so great 
a man employed on anything so small. Then St. 
John said, 'What have you in your hand?' And he 
said, ' A bow.' And St. John said, ' Why is it not 
bent ? ' And the huntsman said, ' Because then it 
would lose its strength.' ' That is just the reason/ 
said St. John, ' why I play with the partridge. It is 
that my mind may be kept strong by sometimes 
being at play.' W T hat do we learn from this story, 
my dear children? We learn from it that St. John, 
and great and good men like St. John, are glad 
now and then to see you at play, and to play like 
you. They are glad to see you happy ; and they 
wish to be little children again like you, because 
that helps them afterwards to work better. We learn 
from it to be kind as he was to little birds and 
beasts : never to torment them ; to remember that 
kindness to dumb animals is a part of what God 
requires of you. There was an aged lady, very 
excellent, wise, and wonderfully learned, who lived 
to be very nearly as old as St. John, and who died 



serm. II. LOVE ONE ANOTHER. 13 

last year in her ninety-second year. She said, a 
very short time before her death, ' I hope that the 
time may come when children shall be taught that 
mercy to birds and beasts is part of religion.' Yes, 
it ought to be part of our religion. I trust that 
we shall make it so. Play, too, with your com- 
panions, like St. John ; remember always that all 
play and all holidays are given by God, to be like 
the unbending of a bow, to help you to work better 
for the future. It is as when he said in his epistle, 
' I write unto you, little children, because ye have 
known the Father.' You have known our loving 
Father in heaven. He gives you all good things, 
work and play, play and work, to make your minds 
and hearts stronger, and better able to do His will. 
He gives you beautiful birds and beautiful ani- 
mals to play with and to love. They, too, are His 
creatures ; He has made you their guardians and 
playmates, and he has made them your com- 
panions and teachers. 

Another story is this. There was a young 
man who had grown up under St. John's care in 
doing what was right, and St. John was very fond 
of him. At last, after a time, St. John had to go 
away, and gave this young man in charge to the 
bishop or chief pastor of Ephesus, and told him 



14 LITTLE CHILDREN, serm. ii. 

on no account to let him go astray. But when 
St. John came back and went to the bishop, 
with whom he had left his young pupil, he saw 
from the bishop's face that something sad had 
happened. ' What is it ? ? he said ; and the bishop 
told him how this young man had fallen in with 
bad companions, who tempted him away into the 
mountains, and there they were living the wild 
life of robbers, and used to come down from the 
hills, as the robbers still do in those countries, to 
carry off travellers and ask a ransom for them. As 
soon as St. John heard this, he immediately set off 
into the mountains. He was not frightened by the 
thought of the robbers, he cared only to save this 
poor young man from his bad courses. And when 
the robbers saw him coming, they said amongst 
themselves, ' Here comes some one that we can 
carry off; ' and down rushed the young man who 
had become their chief, and found himself face to 
face with his beloved old master and friend St. 
John. And the moment he saw him he burst into 
tears and fell at his feet, all his better feelings 
revived, and instead of his carrying off St. John, 
St. John brought him back to good ways, and he 
never went astray afterwards. 

What do we learn from this ? Is it not some- 



serm. II. LOVE ONE ANOTHER. 15 

thing like that which St. John himself said in that 
chapter which you have just heard ? He had taught 
this young man as a little child to love and know 
the good Father of all. He had taught him as a 
young man to overcome the wicked one ; that is, to 
get the better of the evil that there is even in the 
best things. And now when he went astray he 
never lost his interest in him ; he went after him, 
even at the risk of his own life, to bring him back, 
and he succeeded. This story is full of instruction 
even for us. It brings back to us some of St. 
John's own words, ' Little children, keep yourselves 
from idols/ Although we have now no idols like 
those which the heathens worship, yet there are 
many idols still. If a little brother or sister will 
insist on having a toy for himself, and not let any 
one else play with it, that is his 'idol.' If any 
boy who is growing up thinks of nothing but 
games and amusement, and neglects his lessons, 
then games become his idol. If a young man 
goes, as did that one in the story, after bad com- 
panions, they become his 'idols.' Keep yourselves 
from all these idols ; and all of you, O children, 
boys, and young men, remember that there is no 
greater pleasure you can give to your parents and 
teachers than to continue in the good thoughts 



16 LITTLE CHILDREN, serm. ii. 

and words that they have taught you \ remember 
that there is no greater pain for them than to 
think that you have forgotten what they told 
you, that you have ceased to care for them, and 
have gone off into evil ways. And oh, how happy 
for you, how happy for them, if when you have 
gone astray, or done anything wrong, you come 
again like that young man and acknowledge your 
faults ! and the good old friend, whoever it is, 
father, or uncle, or brother, or teacher, will receive 
you back again as if nothing had happened. ' I 
have no greater joy/ St. John said, 'than to hear 
that my children walk in truth.' Be truthful 
in all things, acknowledge your faults as did 
the young robber chief, do not keep them back 
from your parents or friends. Never tell a lie 
to conceal what you have done wrong. Have 
no tricks or schemes to make others think you 
better than you are. Tell the truth, and shame 
the devil. 

There is one other story. When St. John was 
very old indeed, when he was almost a hundred, 
when he could no longer walk or speak as he had 
done in his youth, he used to be carried into 
the market-place in the arms of his friends, and 
the people, old, and young, and children, gathered 



serm. ii. LOVE ONE ANOTHER. 17 

round him to hear the farewell words of their 
venerable teacher. And then he would say, ' Little 
children, love one another ; ' and when they asked 
for something else, he said again, ' Little children, 
love one another ; ' and when they asked him yet 
again, still he said, ' Little children, love one another. ' 
And they said, ' Why do you always say this, and 
nothing else ? ' And he said, ' Because this is the 
best thing I can say ; if you love one another, that 
is all that I have to tell you.' What do we learn 
from this ? We learn that the thing which St. John, 
the beloved disciple, was most anxious to teach, 
was that those whom he cared for should love one 
another. It is the same as when he said in his 
letter to them, ' My little children, let us love one 
another in deed and in truth.' And that is what 
we say to you now, 'Little children, love one 
another.' Little brothers, be kind to your little 
brothers and sisters. Boys at school, be kind to 
those who are younger and weaker than you. You 
can show them kindness and love in many, many 
ways ; you can keep from teasing or hurting them, 
you can prevent others from teasing or hurting 
them ; and that will make them love and be kind to 
you. Little boys will never forget the kindness they 
have received from bigger boys at school. Brothers 



18 LITTLE CHILDREN, serm. ii. 

and sisters who have given up lovingly and kindly 
when they were quite small will give up lovingly 
and kindly all their lives. Love one another in 
deed and in truth ; do not pick out each other's 
faults ; make the best of what there is good in each 
other ; be glad when you hear anything good of 
those who live with you. Never quarrel ; it does 
no good to any one. Never be jealous ; jealousy 
is one of the most mischievous, hateful things that 
can get into any one's mind. Never tell bad 
stories one of another. Never listen to bad 
stories of other people. When you ask to be 
forgiven in your prayers every night, always try 
in your hearts to forgive and forget what has 
been done to vex you in the day. 

This is the love which St. John wished to see. 
This is the love which Jesus Christ wishes to see 
in all His disciples, old and young. 

Always bear in mind that the first thing to be 
done is to try to help and befriend some one else. 
That will make you generous and just ; that will 
make you active and courageous ; that will make 
you feel how wicked it is to lead others into wrong, 
and ho\v happy and excellent a thing it is to help 
others to be good. That will make you better able 
to love and to do good to men when you grow 



serm. II. LOVE ONE ANOTHER. 19 

up to be men yourselves. That will the better 
enable you to love God, who can only be loved 
by those who love their fellow-creatures. There- 
fore I end this address to you, as St. John ended 
his long life, saying, 'Little children, love one 
another.' 



EI. 
THE USE OF CHILDREN. 

(December 28, 1874.) 

And Jesus called a Utile child tmto Him^ and set him in 
the midst of 'them , and said, Vei'ily I say unto you. Except ye 
be converted, and beco7ne as little children, ye shall not enter 
into the kingdom of heaven. — Matt, xviii. 2, 3. 

The Festival of the Innocents, which is the festival 
of little children, brings us in the course of the 
services of the Church to this incident in the 
Gospel history. Jesus called a little child, and 
set him in the midst of them. That is what is 
attempted here every Innocents' Day. We wish 
once a year to call the little children of London 
together and place them in the midst of this great 
church in this great metropolis, and ask them, and 
ask their friends and parents, what it is that these 
little faces ought to teach us, as they taught the 
first disciples of Jesus Christ. 

First, what do they teach us about God and 
our Saviour ? There was a very wise man, William 



serm. in. THE USE OF CHILDREN, 21 

Paley, who lived a hundred years ago, who used to 
say that of all the proofs that the world gave him 
of the benevolence the good-will of God, our 
Creator, the chief was the pleasures of little children. 
And there is a great deal in this : when we see the 
innocent, radiant happiness of children, without 
care and without sorrow, we cannot help thinking 
that we then see something like what is meant by 
Paradise, something like what God intended man- 
kind to be. They are like the flowers, like the gay 
plumage and the flight of birds, like the dancing of 
brooks and rivulets ; we cannot imagine why they 
should be as they are, except because God delights 
in such happiness, and would wish us to enjoy it. 
And so, too, in the Gospel history, where we hear 
how often our Saviour took notice of little children, 
how He set them up in the midst of His disciples, 
how He took them up in His arms and laid His 
hands on their little heads and blessed them, and 
by His outward gesture and deed declared His 
good-will towards them — this shows us how He 
enjoyed what we enjoy. It is the answer to the ques- 
tion which is sometimes asked— we hear that our 
Saviour wept, and we ask, But did He ever smile ? 
Yes, He did smile. He must have smiled as He 
fondled these little ones. No one can mix thus 



22 THE USE OF CHILDREN, serm. hi. 

with children, and not have his brow relax, and his 
eyes brighten, and his lips move with gaiety and 
laughter, as he handles them, and looks at them, 
and learns from them. And then, in this en- 
joyment and appreciation of little children, our 
Saviour teaches us the enjoyment and appreciation 
of all innocent happiness. He bids us enjoy this 
season. He bids us be as a child with children. 
He bids us be as little children. He bids us feel 
that He loves us as a father pitieth his own 
children. Surely the sight of little children set 
in the midst of full-grown men is a rebuke to our 
passions, a solace to our sorrows, an example for our 
imitation. 'Except ye become as little children, 
ye cannot enter into the kingdom of heaven.' 
No doubt there are bad children, there are vain 
children, who are no comfort and no examples to 
anybody ; but a good child is in some respects more 
of a comfort, more of an example, than a good man. 
And why ? Because a little child knows nothing of 
our quarrels, of our doubts, of our disputes, of our 
ambitions, of our cares. It can come into a sick 
chamber, or a chamber of sorrow, when no one 
else can come in, because it awakes no painful 
feeling ; it is unconscious in its joy, it is gentle in 
its grief. It produces a holy calm which enables 



serm. in. THE USE OF CHILDREN. 23 

the sufferer to reflect and decide, and look upwards 
and inwards with the trustful confidence which the 
confidence of the child itself inspires. And do we 
not feel that in their presence, if anywhere, we are 
among those who see things as they really are ? 

And how often has a little child of a rough, hard 
father or mother, set in the midst of an unhappy 
household, been by its innocent ways the saving 
of such a parent or such a household ! What pro- 
tection there is in the smile of an innocent infant ! 
What a sermon there is in the eyes of an inquiring, 
honest, fearless little boy ; of a gentle, pure little 
girl ! How impressive and how true to nature is 
the story of the old miser, Silas Marner, whose 
suspicious, irritable mind was gradually transformed 
and transfigured by the treasure of a little child 
that he one day found unexpectedly placed in his 
miserable home ! That exactly expresses what our 
Saviour meant by setting a child in the midst of 
them. How striking the letter of Luther to his 
little boy John, or his letter on the death of his 
little daughter Magdalen ! These children seem 
to have been given to him that all the world might 
know what a kind, tender heart there was in that 
strong, strict, energetic man. Or in the history of 
England is there any crime in the bloody civil wars 



24 THE USE OF CHILDREN, serm. hi. 

of York and Lancaster, or any of the cruelties of 
the kings and barons in those savage times, which 
has so touched the hearts of all Englishmen in 
later days as the murder of the two little princes in 
the Tower? 

Thus lay the gentle babes girdling one another 
Within their alabaster innocent arms ; 

A book of prayers upon their pillow lay. 

We feel, as we read that story, a glow of 
righteous indignation against grasping ambition 
and selfish tyranny of every kind, past or present. 
Or in the history of the horrors of the French 
Revolution is there any deed of blood which has 
left so dark and deep a stain on the violent party- 
spirit and revolutionary fanaticism of those days as 
the inhuman treatment of that unfortunate child, 
the son of Louis XVI., who died at ten years old 
of the misery and insults inflicted upon him by the 
agents of the ruffians who then trampled on the 
liberties of France ? I have seen an ivory cross, 
said to have been worn by the queen his mother 
on her way to the scaffold. But the figure on the 
crucifix is not the dying Redeemer in his full-grown 
stature, but the infant Jesus stretched on the cross, 
with His gentle smile and innocent gestures. 



serm. in. THE USE OF CHILDREN. 25 

Whether or not it was that she, in that last hour, 
was thinking of her own unhappy child, that little 
figure at least represents what has been the feeling of 
humanity in the whole course of history — that there 
is nothing which so touches the heart, or elevates 
the thought, or stirs the just anger of the better 
portion of mankind, as the wrongs or the sufferings 
of a little child. Such thoughts as these ought to 
strike home to the hearts of all who have anything 
to do with children, parents, friends of children, 
ay, and children themselves. This is the meaning 
of those words of our Lord, when on this same 
occasion He said, c Whoso shall offend one of these 
little ones, it were better that a millstone were hanged 
about his neck, and that he were drowned in the 
depths of the sea.' Think what it is to mislead, or 
to pervert, or to corrupt, or to give needless pain to 
any of these children, who were sent to us with the 
special view of keeping alive within us whatever 
there is of good or pure or just. An ancient 
heathen poet has said, ' There is nothing which 
demands greater reverence at our hands than the 
conscience of a little boy : ' — 

Maxima debetur pueris reverentia 
To accustom them in their early years to sounds or 



26 THE USE OF CHILDREN. serm. hi. 

sights of cruelty or vice, to teach them by precept 
or words those bad habits, those slang, vulgar 
words, which confuse their delicate sense of right 
or wrong, which deprave their taste for what is 
beautiful ; to encourage, by foolish laughter or by 
reckless indulgence, the tricks or the mistakes or 
the frivolities of those who soon learn to know 
what it is that amuses their elders, and who have 
a fatal facility of imitating what is bad as well as 
what is good ; these are so many ways of offend- 
ing God's little ones, causing them to stumble, go 
astray, spoiling them (to use that homely but most 
expressive word) for any good word or work in 
after-life. And, on the other hand, how much can 
be done to develop, to unfold, to enlighten them 
from the very first ! They are to us the types and 
likenesses of the whole human race — of religion 
itself. Every generation is bound to contribute what 
it can to the formation of that perfect man which is 
to grow up into the fulness of the stature of Jesus 
Christ. And so every parent, every teacher, is bound 
to pour all the light and knowledge and grace that 
he can into the souls, the eager receptive souls, of 
those who will grow up to take our place when we 
are dead and gone. ' Take heed that ye despise not 
one of these little ones.' No, indeed, they are not 



serm. in. THE USE OF CHILDREN. 27 

to be despised, they have in them the future of 
the world. ' Their angels/ as the Saviour says, 
'behold the face of My Father which is in heaven.' 
That is to say, their immortal destinies are trea- 
sured up in the eternal councils of Providence, 
as the means by which the world shall be regene- 
rated. That little child which the Saviour held in 
His arms was, according to the tradition, to grow up 
to be the future martyr of the early church, Ignatius, 
the heroic Bishop of Antioch. The children of 
England at this moment — who knows what may 
be the lot of any one of them ? We remember the 
mournful regret of the poet in the country church- 
yard at the thought how there might there be 
mouldering — 

Hands that the rod of empire might have swayed, 
Or waked to ecstasy the living lyre ; 

how 

Some mute inglorious Milton here may rest, 
Some Cromwell guiltless of his country's blood. 

But the same thing may occur to any thoughtful 
man, as he looks over an assembly of children, not 
with useless regret at what might have been and 
is not, but w T ith inspiring hope at what may be, and 
perhaps shall be. They are the rising generation ; 
they contain the poets, the scholars, the discoverers, 



28 THE USE OF CHILDREN, serm. hi. 

the statesmen, the Christians of the future. Their 
guardian angels, their ideals (so to speak), are at 
this moment contemplating, in the face of the 
Eternal Father, the possible destinies of glory, of 
grace, or of goodness which they may accomplish, 
and which need only our helping hands to enable 
them to help themselves, and reach forward to the 
prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus. 

And in this, you, my dear children, can take 
your part. I have hitherto spoken more to your 
friends and your parents than to you, but you will 
have heard what I have been saying, and you will 
feel how great a blessing you can be to them and to 
all of us if you are good, sweet-tempered, and kind ; 
and how great a misery if you are naughty, cross, 
selfish. If you look at the face of your father or 
mother, your uncle or aunt, or your tutor, you will 
often seen a dark shade come over it, as if they had 
some very bad news ; and what do you think it is? It 
is because they have seen something in you that has 
distressed them, that has made them fear that you 
are not going on as you ought, that you have been 
unkind, or untruthful, or rough. Oh ! drive away 
that dark shade from their faces, for you only can 
do it ; you love them, and you would not make them 
unhappy. And have you not also seen their faces 



serm. in. THE USE OF CHILDREN. 29 

sometimes shine with joy, and their eyes sparkle ? 
and even if they are ill or suffering, have you not 
seen them cheered up, and seem, for the moment, 
almost well ? Why is it ? What has helped them ? 
Have they had a great treasure sent to them ? Has 
a good fairy given them some beautiful palace or 
kingdom ? No. I will tell you what it is. They 
have heard, they have seen, that their child is going 
on as they would wish ; that their little son or 
their little nephew shows himself more manly, more 
attentive to his lessons, more courageous, more 
kind to dumb creatures, more thoughtful for his 
brothers and sisters ; or that their little daughter or 
their little niece is growing up more modest, more 
willing to help her father and mother, more gentle, 
more compassionate ; less thinking of herself, and 
more of those about her. And can you not also 
help each other ? For it is not only parents that 
sometimes spoil their children, it is sometimes 
children who spoil one another. And it is not 
only parents and teachers who educate and teach 
their children, it is children who educate and teach 
one another. Even in the nursery you can keep 
quiet whilst your little brother and sister are saying 
their prayers. By giving or keeping back your 
playthings you can make one another happy or 



3o THE USE OF CHILDREN, serm. hi. 

miserable. And as you grow older — you little boys 
especially, when you go to school — you can be like 
guardian angels to those who are weaker and 
younger than you. You can watch over them. 
You can encourage them in telling the truth, and 
in keeping from bad words. You can prevent 
others from teasing them ; and when you grow to 
be men, you will find, perhaps, that the good which 
you have done to them has never been forgotten ; 
and when some one presses your hand more warmly, 
or looks gratefully in your face, it will be because 
he remembers the kindness you did to him when 
you both sat side by side on the same bench, or 
played together in the same playground at school. 
And if any good thought has been put into your 
hearts to-day, do not let it pass away. Remember 
that each of you may grow up to be a light in the 
world, beloved by all good men there, as you are 
beloved by your brothers and sisters and play- 
fellows. It is told of one recently buried in this 
Abbey — David Livingstone — that he began to im- 
prove himself quite as a young boy in Scotland, 
reading his books at any odd moment, amidst all 
the noise and clatter around him when he was at 
his work ; and he ended his life by having made 
himself so honoured and beloved by the Africans 



serm. in. THE USE OF CHILDREN, 31 

amongst whom he died, that they carried his dead 
body through every kind of difficulty and danger, 
till at last it was laid where you see his name and 
his fame inscribed for ever. And remember that 
Jesus Christ Himself, the great and good Saviour, 
began as a child like you. A good man, 1 whose 
monument was erected in this church by one 2 who 
loved his poetry dearly, and who is himself de- 
parted from us, was always thinking of little chil- 
dren and writing verses for them, and of the love 
which Jesus Christ had for them \ and with some 
of these verses I will end what I have to say. 

Was not our Lord a little child, 

Taught by degrees to pray ; 
By father dear and mother mild 

Instructed day by day ? 

And loved He not of heaven to talk 

With children in His sight ; 
To meet them in His daily walk, 

And to His arms invite ? 

In His arms may you all remain to the end of your 
lives. 

1 Keble. 2 Edward Twisleton. 



IV. 
THE < GOLIATH' BOYS. 

(December 28, 1875.) 

There remaineth yet the youngest \ and, behold, he keepeth 
the sheep. — 1 Sam. xvi. 11. 

I propose to set before you to-day an example of 
what may be expected from children, from little 
boys, from little girls, when they are quite young ; 
to show you how they may do and say things 
which will be of the greatest use to those about 
them, and which will do the greatest good to their 
own characters. Sometimes we think that they can 
only do very little, but I will show you that they can 
do a great deal. Look at David : when Samuel 
first came to his father's house and asked to see 
the sons, they came one after another, tall, grown- 
up men ; no one thought of the little boy who was 
with the sheep. When the huge giant, Goliath of 
Gath, defied the armies of Israel, he looked round 
disdainfully, as though he saw no one. But 



serm. iv. THE 'GOLIATH' BOYS. 33 

running across the valley there came to the Philis- 
tine giant this young boy, with his bright auburn 
hair, and his fierce quick eyes, and his little satchel 
round his neck, and his little switch in his hand, 
with which he kept the sheep-dogs in order, It 
was he who had sung his songs on the hill-side, 
where he saw the sun and moon and stars. It was 
he who had had the courage to run after the lion 
and the bear, and snatch his sheep or his lambs out 
of their mouths. It was he who, though his tall 
brothers thought nothing of him, and the proud 
Philistine treated him as a mere child, yet was able 
to do for his country what no one else could do, 
and with his sling and his stone, with his fleet feet, 
and his certain aim, and his strong faith, and his 
undaunted spirit, to overthrow his gigantic ^enemy. 
This is a story which is often repeated. It has 
been repeated in the example of some of the 
early martyrs ; not only of those children who are 
commemorated to-day as the Innocent Babes 
whom Herod killed, and who died not knowing 
how or why, but later in the history of the Church ; 
as in the cases of the little boy Pancratius, who is 
believed to have been a martyr at fourteen, and of 
the little girl Agnes, who is supposed to have been 
a martyr at thirteen. There have been some of our 



34 THE 'GOLIATH' BOYS. serm. iv. 

own good young princes who are buried in this 
Abbey. There was that wonderfully gifted boy, 
Edward VI., who was only sixteen when he died, 
and who before that time had by his diligence and 
his honesty made himself beloved and trusted by 
all about him, and who even had the firmness 
to resist doing a very cruel act when urged to it 
by a much older man, who should have known 
better. There is the good Prince Henry, eldest 
son of King James I., who when his foolish atten- 
dants provoked him to swear because a butcher's 
dog had killed a stag that he was hunting, said, 
c Away with you ! all the pleasure in the world is 
not worth a profane oath,' There was, again, that 
other Henry, Duke of Gloucester, who sat on the 
knees of his father, Charles L, on the day before 
his execution, and who, when his father said to 
him, ' They will try to make you king instead of 
your elder brother,' fired up like a little man, and 
said, ' I will be torn in pieces first.' Well might 
all these princes be mourned, and have a place 
in English history, and a place in this Abbey ; 
because, though they died early, they showed of 
what stuff they were made, and that they would 
have been fit to be kings, and to be with kings, 
because they had wills and consciences of their 



serm. iv. THE 'GOLIATH' BOYS. 35 

own ; because they were afraid of nothing except 
doing wrong ; because they cared for nothing so 
much as doing their duty. 

But perhaps some of you, or of your parents 
and friends who have the charge of you, will say : 
1 Oh, but these were young princes, with all the 
advantages which a great education could give ; 
or, these were martyrs who lived long ago, when 
times were so different ; or, that bright-eyed, light- 
haired boy, the youthful David, was inspired by 
God's especial grace to do and say great things, 
which could not be expected of us.' 

But now let me give you an example which 
comes nearer home. I will speak to you of what 
has been done by little boys of seven, of eight, of 
twelve, of thirteen, as young as the youngest of 
you ) little English boys, and English boys with 
very few advantages of birth, not brought up as 
most of you are, in quiet, orderly homes, but taken 
from rough workhouses. I will speak to you of 
what such little boys have done, not three thou- 
sand, or fifteen hundred, or two hundred years 
ago, but last week — last Wednesday 1 — on this very 
river Thames. Do you know what I am thinking 
of? It is of the little boys who were brought 
1 December 22, 1875. 

d 2 



3& THE 'GOLIATH' BOYS. serm. iv. 

from different workhouses in London, nearly five 
hundred, and were put to school to be trained as 
sailors on board the ship which was called after 
the name of the giant whom David slew — the 
training-ship Goliath, down the Thames. This 
great ship suddenly, about eight o'clock on Wed- 
nesday morning, caught fire. It was hardly light ; 
one of these dark winter mornings when we can 
hardly see to dress ourselves. In three minutes 
the ship was on fire from one end to the other, 
and the fire-bell rang to call the boys each to his 
post. What did they do ? Think of the sudden 
surprise, the sudden danger, the flames rushing all 
round them,, and the dark cold water below them. 
Did they cry, or scream, or run, or fly about 
in confusion ? No, they ran each to his proper 
place ; they had been trained to do it ; they knew 
it was their duty, and no one forgot himself, none 
lost his presence of mind. They all, as the 
captain says, ' behaved like men.' Then, when 
it was found impossible to save the ship, those 
who could swim, at the command of the captain, 
jumped into the water, and swam for their lives. 
Some at his command got into a boat ; and then, 
when the sheets of flame and clouds of smoke 
came pouring out of the ship upon them, the 



serm. iv. THE 'GOLIATH' BOYS. 37 

smaller boys for a moment were frightened, and 
wanted to push away. But there was one among 
them — the little mate — his name was William 
Bolton. We are proud here that he came from 
Westminster. A quiet boy, they tell us, and one 
much loved by his comrades. He had the sense 
and the courage to say, ' No ; we must stay and 
help those that are still in the ship.' He kept the 
barge alongside of the ship as long as possible, 
and was thus the means of saving more than one 
hundred lives. And there were others, who were 
still in the ship while the flames went on spreading, 
and they came and stood by the good captain who 
had been so kind to them all, and whom they all 
loved so much ; and in that dreadful moment they 
thought more of him than of themselves ; and one 
threw his arms round his neck, and said, ' You'll 
be burnt, captain ; ' and another said, ' Save your- 
self before the rest.' But the captain gave them the 
best of all lessons at that moment ; he said, 'That's 
not the way at sea, my boys.' He meant to say — 
and they quite understood what he meant — that the 
way at sea is to prepare for danger beforehand, to 
meet it manfully when it comes, and to look at the 
safety not of oneself, but of others. ' And thus,' as 
says the public journal in speaking of it, ' the captain 



38 THE 'GOLIATH' BOYS. serm. iv. 

not only had learned that good old way himself, but 
knew how to teach it to the boys under his charge.' 
And now let me ask you to consider what we 
may all learn from this story of the good conduct 
of the boys in the Goliath ship. First, what an 
encouragement it is to parents, teachers, nurses, all 
who do anything for children, as showing that 
their labour is not spent in vain ! These little 
boys were taken from a rough, neglected class, 
which had before been a trouble and vexation 
to all about them. By the foresight and energy 
of the Minister of State who began this system 
of training-ships, and then by the constant, genial, 
wise kindness of the captain and his wife and 
daughters, always having a kind word and look 
for these little boys, making them feel their ship to 
be their home, instructing them in habits of order 
and duty and religion, they were being trained 
to be the servants of their country and their God 
in that noble profession of an English sailor. And 
now that they have been suddenly put on their 
trial in this great calamity, we see how all this had 
told upon them. What seeds of goodness were 
there in these little hearts ! what energy given to 
those little minds ! This is what education can 
do ; this is what can be done by making a good 



serm. iv. THE 'GOLIATH" BOYS. 39 

beginning, I know, we all know, that good be- 
ginnings may have bad endings ; that these little 
heroes, as we may call them, of the Goliath ship 
may, if they are spoiled by foolish flattery, or meet 
with wicked companions, turn out very differently 
from what they are now. There has been a dreadful 
example, within the last month, of one who began 
as a charming, enterprising, intelligent, religious 
boy, but who, from giving way to evil courses and 
bad associates, ended in committing a frightful 
crime, and died last week, with the infamy of a 
selfish, hard-hearted murderer. 2 But these things 
are the exceptions. Let us hope and believe that 
whenever care, forethought, and kindness are ex- 
erted on young children, they will lead the rest of 
their lives according to that good beginning. It 
is the best we can do for them ; it is the best we 
can do for our country. 

And you, children, turn your thoughts once 
again back to that burning ship, and the example 
of the little boys all doing their duty so nobly. 
What is it that this teaches you ? It teaches you 
that you ought to be always ready to do what is 
right at a moment's notice. These boys could 
never have guessed, when they got up on the 

- Wainwrii^ht. 



4 o THE 'GOLIATH" BOYS. serm. iv. 

morning of that day, that in three minutes they 
would have to be all working to save their lives, 
and the lives of those about them. But they were 
ready, and they did it. There is a fine old motto 
of an old Scottish family, ' Ready, aye ready - : 
let that be your motto. When a sudden alarm 
comes — perhaps fire in the middle of the night, 
perhaps some other danger — try to keep what is 
called presence of mind ; do not run about here 
and there, as if you had lost your senses, but be 
quiet, be calm. Do what you are bid, and you may 
save father, mother, brothers, and sisters. And 
again, when a sudden temptation comes upon you 
to go after what is wrong, saying foolish, filthy 
words, or telling a lie, or over-eating yourselves, 
or being unkind, remember those boys in the 
Goliath. They stood firm to what they knew 
was their duty. They stood firm though the 
flames were raging round them ; they were like the 
three children in the midst of the burning fiery 
furnace, who were as true to their conscience, and as 
calm, as though the fire had been a moist whistling 
wind. And remember how, when those who were 
in the boat were a moment dismayed, there was 
one, the little mate, who had the courage to persist 
in keeping close to the ship, and so saved many, 



serm. iv. THE 'GOLIATH' BOYS. 41 

many of his dear friends. Be like that little mate : 
when you are pressed to do anything wrong, have 
the boldness to say No. A very wise man has said 
that any one who has learnt to say No has made 
the first step to being a good, useful, great man. 
Do not care how many there may be against you ; 
do not think of the trouble of doing right. Do it, and 
take the consequences. Even if the burning masts 
had fallen upon the Goliath boys and killed them 
all, it would have been better for them all to have 
died in that way, and be buried by the little boy 
who is this day laid to rest in the village church 
of Grays, than that they should have weakly 
given way, and shown the white feather, or 
failed in one atom of their duty. And think what 
a reward, what an exceeding great reward, you give 
to your parents and your teachers by any such 
good conduct. When that little boy clasped his 
arms round the captain's neck, and begged him to 
go, and said, ' You'll be burnt, captain, if you stay,' 
do not you think that that moment must have made 
up to the captain for all the trouble and pains he 
had spent on these boys, to see that they loved him, 
and would have given their lives for him ? Remem- 
ber that short speech of the captain when they 
asked him to leave the ship : 'That's not the way at 



42 THE 'GOLIATH BOYS. serm. iv. 

sea, my boys/ That is the best advice for all of us. 
We are all on our voyage through life, over many 
waves of this troublesome world. There is one way 
of getting out of these troubles — it is by selfishly 
thinking of ourselves, by leaving our companions 
in the wood, by taking the best for ourselves, by 
avoiding risk and danger and pain, and seeking our 
own profit and pleasure. This is what is done by 
many children, and by many men. ' But that is 
not the way at sea, my boys.' It is the way of the 
world. It is the way of cowards, and spendthrifts, 
and spoiled children, and selfish men ; but it is not 
the way of English sailors, it is not the way of 
Christian Englishmen, it is not the way to noble 
lives and glorious deaths. There 'is the way at 
sea ' — the way of standing by your post till the last, 
doing your duty whatever comes, thinking more of 
others than of yourself, jumping into the face 
of danger rather than flying away in dishonour, 
working away quietly and calmly and manfully to 
do as much good as you can whilst life is granted 
to you. 'That's the way at sea, my boys.' That 
was the way of the boys in the burning ship. That 
is the way in which England's sailors, like Commo- 
dore Goodenough, have won for themselves an 
immortal name. That is the way of good children, 



serm. iv. THE 'GOLIATH' BOYS. 43 

honourable boys, and gallant men ; the way of 
Christian heroes and Christian martyrs, That is 
the way in which we trust that this day will teach 
you to walk henceforth, and till the latest day of 
your lives. 



V. 
THE CHILDREN'S PSALMS. 

(December 28, 1876.) 

Out of the mouth of babes and sucklings hast Thou or- 
dained strength. — Ps. viii. 2. Like as the arrows in the hand 
of the giants even so are the young children. — Ps. cxxvii. 5 
(Prayer Book version). Lord, zuho shall abide in Thy taber- 
nacle? who shall dwell in Thy holy hill? — Ps. xv. 1. 

When, year by year, we see a congregation of chil- 
dren with their parents assembled, it is, or ought to 
be, a joy and comfort to those w T ho feel the burden 
of life, the darkening shades of sorrow, and the 
weight of care. Why is this ? Why is the sight 
of children a consolation ? Parents, perhaps, will 
understand best what I have to say at first, although 
I shall also have to say something which children 
will understand for themselves. I have taken these 
verses from the three Psalms which are sung on occa- 
sion of these gatherings to express what I mean. 
I. The first is from the eighth Psalm. That is 



serm. v. THE CHILDREN'S PSALMS. 45 

a Psalm which almost certainly was written by 
David. He wishes to unravel his thoughts, and to 
have a clear idea of God ; and he finds it in two 
things ; in the moon and the stars, which we see 
in the sky on a cloudless night, and which cause him 
to think of the order with which this great universe 
has been arranged ; and in the bright faces and the 
blameless talk of little children. Little children 
give him an idea of what man, who was born in 
the image of God, was meant to be. No doubt 
there are bad children, naughty children ; and 
even in good children there is something which 
may become very bad. Still, in children there 
is an innocence, a lightness of heart, an ignorance 
of evil, a joyousness, and a simplicity, which ought 
to be refreshing to every one. It was this which 
made our Saviour so fond of them — taking them 
up in His arms and saying, ' Of such is the kingdom 
of heaven ; ' and it is this which is well expressed 
by a good English poet, who says, as he looks back 
regretfully to his childhood — 

Happy those early days when I 
Shined in my angel infancy ; 

Before I taught my tongue to wound 
My conscience with a sinful sound ; 



46 THE CHILDREN'S PSALMS, serm. v. 

But felt through all this fleshly dress 
Bright shoots of everlastingness. 
Oh, how I long to travel back, 
And tread again that ancient track ! * 

And this it is, also, which gives a soothing thought 
to any who have lost their darlings in infancy or in 
early childhood. Their lives were complete. They 
had shown us the glory of God in their dear little 
ways. They have gone to be with Him. ' We 
reckon not by years and months where they have 
gone to dwell.' May I read to you the words of a 
great scholar and philosopher 2 after the death of a 
sweet daughter ? Parents may take the words to 
themselves, and children may know from them 
what a comfort they may be for their parents if 
they have been good and gentle and diligent. c As 
soon as her last breath was gone I was able to 
thank God that He had taken my child into His 
arms, where she is safe for ever from all the troubles 
and the sorrows of life. The first chapter of her 
existence has closed. Who knows w r hat troubles 
might have been in store for her? But she was 
found worthy to enter the kingdom of heaven as a 
little child Here we have toiled for many years, 
and been troubled with many questionings, but 

1 Henry Vaughan, The Retreat. 2 Max Miiller. 



serm. v. THE CHILDREN'S PSALMS. 47 

what is the end of it all ? We must learn to become 
simple again like little children. That is all we 
have a right to be ; for this life was meant to be 
the childhood of our souls, and the more we try 
to be what we were meant to be, the better for us. 
Let us use the powers of our minds with the greatest 
freedom and love of truth ; but let us never forget 
that we are, as Newton said, "like children playing 
on the sea shore, while the great ocean of truth lies 
undiscovered before us."' 

II. But we must not, in thinking of children, 
think only of them in the past. We must think of 
their future ; and here let us look at another Psalm, 
the hundred and twenty seventh, a Psalm which 
some of the Jewish teachers long ago thought might 
have been written by the great King Solomon. 
At any rate, it expresses what a man of vast ex- 
perience of human life might well have said. It 
tells us that we must console ourselves in the sor- 
rows and troubles of the present time by thinking 
of what the children who stand around us may be 
in the time which is coming. They are like the 
arrows which a mighty archer can shoot far away 
into the distance and the darkness, and so strike a 
target which we, perhaps, can hardly see, but which, 
if these little arrows are winged with good thoughts, 



4 8 THE CHILDREN'S PSALMS, serm. v. 

and pointed with good resolves, and polished by 
a good training, they will surely reach. We may 
sometimes, as we look towards the immediate 
future of our country, think sadly perhaps how 
few great characters or glorious gifts there are to 
enlighten the close of this nineteenth century, as 
we and our fathers were enlightened by the great 
characters and the glorious gifts of those who 
adorned its beginning. But our consolation may be 
that those who are the children of this generation 
shall grow up to fill this void, and to comfort those 
who are still unborn. Amongst the children who 
are now present here ; there must be many who will 
live to the twentieth century. Let them remember, 
when the first year of the next century shall dawn 
upon them, that they were called upon, as now in 
this Abbey, to take their part in rendering their 
country a great, a happy, and a Christian nation. 
Where we have failed, let them succeed ; where we 
have succeeded, let them improve ; where we have 
lost, let them recover. Happy is that country which 
has its quiver full of good, strong, active, honest, 
Christian children. She shall not be afraid when 
she speaks with her enemies in the gate. There is 
a long, long day before many of you. Make the 
very most of it. Let us feel assured that when we 



serm. v. THE CHILDREN'S PSALMS. 49 

die and pass away we shall have left our country, 
our religion, and our honour, safe in your hands. 

III. And this brings me to the third lesson 
which we may take from these Psalms. The 
fifteenth Psalm also is almost certainly written by 
David. It was what he wrote, we may suppose, 
when he had conquered Jerusalem, and asked who 
was w r orthy to live in the holy city ; that is. what 
are the characters that God loves and wishes to be 
with Him ? There is no difficulty in understanding 
what David says in the verses which follow the 
first ; and when people talk of the difficulty of 
teaching religion to children, let them remember 
these verses of the fifteenth Psalm. They will 
find how very easily they can be learned, and 
how very easily they can be applied. I will try 
to apply them now ; and so I turn to you, my 
children, and having told you how much we and 
your country expect from you, I will tell you 
who it is that shall be thought worthy of the house 
of God and His holy hill ; and I will ask those who 
are parents and friends, or who have any influence 
over any of these children, to try to make a good 
atmosphere round about them, so that these 
conditions may become possible and easy for them. 
What, then, is it that we may recommend to all 

E 



50 THE CHILDREN'S PSALMS, serm. v. 

children if they would wish to please their parents, 
to please God, and to go to heaven ? Love honest 
work. Love to get knowledge. Never forget to 
say your prayers morning and evening, never be 
ashamed to say them. It will help you to be good 
all through the day. Always keep your promises. 
Do not pick up foolish and dirty stories. Never, 
never tell a lie. Never strike, or hurt, or be rude 
to a woman or a girl, or to any one weaker or 
younger than yourselves. Be ready even to risk 
your own lives to save a friend, or a companion, or 
a brother, or a sister. Be very kind to poor dumb 
animals. Never put them to pain. They are 
God's creatures as well as you ; and if you hurt 
them you will become brutal and base yourselves. 
Remember always to be gentle and attentive to 
older people. Listen, and do not interrupt when 
they are talking. If you have an old father or 
grandfather, or a sick uncle or aunt, remember not 
to disturb them by loud talking or rough playing. 
Be careful and tender to them. You cannot think 
what good it does them. And if it should hap- 
pen that any amongst you have poor fathers or 
poor mothers who have to get up early in order to 
go about their business, and to earn their bread 
and your bread, remember what a pleasure it will 



serm. v. THE CHILDREN'S PSALMS. 51 

be to them to find that their little boy or their little 
girl has been out of bed before them on a cold 
winter morning, and lighted a bright, blazing fire, 
so as to give them a warm cup of tea. Think 
what pleasure it will be to them if they are sick, or 
if they are deaf, or if they are blind, to find a little 
boy or a little girl to speak to them, to read to 
them, and to lead them about. But there is not 
only the comfort which is experienced in being 
thus helped; there is the still greater comfort of 
knowing that they have a good little son or a good 
little daughter who is anxious to assist them, and 
who, they feel sure, will be a joy, and not a trouble 
to them, by day and by night. No Christmas 
present can be so welcome to any father and 
mother as the belief that their children are 
growing up truthful, manly, courageous, courteous, 
unselfish, and religious. And do not think that 
any of these things are too much for any of you. 
I know that many of you have great temptations. 
Perhaps you may have homes where it is very 
difficult to be tidy and clean. Perhaps, as you go 
to school along the streets, there may be wicked 
people who endeavour to lead you astray, and who 
try to make you steal, and use bad words. Yet I 
am sure that, if you do your best, you will find 

E 2 



52 THE CHILDREN'S PSALMS, serm. v. 

such delight in doing your duty that you will go 
on in what is good. Let the good frighten the 
bad ; let the light drive away the darkness ; let 
the whole world know that there are little English 
boys and girls who are determined to do their duty 
whatever befalls them. Some of you may re- 
member that, last year, I spoke of the gallant boys 
who behaved so well on board the Goliath ship 
when it was on fire. Well, these same boys have 
just begun their training over again. It was only 
on Tuesday last that they got on board their new 
ship, the Exmouth ; and there they are working for 
their country once more. God bless ,and prosper 
them, and may they still be examples to all of us. 
It was only the other day, also, that I heard of a 
brave, modest little boy — Hammond Parker was 
his name — who was only just fourteen years of age, 
but who had saved, at different times, the lives of 
no fewer than four other boys by plunging into 
the rough sea after them on the coast of Norfolk. 
Now, that shows what you may all do— not, 
perhaps, by plunging into the stormy sea, but, at 
any rate, by saving little brothers or little sisters 
from going wrong. You can do far more for them 
than, perhaps, any one else, because you are 
always with them. Stand by them, protect them ; 



serm. v. THE CHILDREN'S PSALMS, 53 

stand by each other ; and then the foolish, wicked, 
and cruel people who want to mislead you will 
very soon run away. Bad people are almost 
always afraid of good people, even though the 
good are much fewer ; even, indeed, though the 
good may be only a little child. I knew once a 
very famous man (it was Adam Sedgwick), who 
lived to be eighty- eight years old, and who was the 
delight of every one about him. He always stood 
up for what was right. His eye was like the eagle's 
when it flashed fire against what was wrong. And 
how early do you think he began to do this ? I 
have an old grammar which belonged to him, all 
tattered and torn, which he had when he was a 
little boy at school ; and what do I find written in 
his own hand on the first page of it ? I find these 
words from Shakespeare : ' Still in thy right hand 
carry gentle peace, to silence envious tongues. Be 
just and fear not/ That was his rule all through 
life, and he was loved and honoured down to the 
day when he was borne to his grave. Be just, be 
good, and fear not. Let that be your rule ; and God 
and Jesus Christ will be with you now and always. 



VI. 
SICK CHILDREN. 

(December 28, 1877.) 
Is it well with the child? . . . It is well. 1 — 2 Kings iv. 26. 

I have usually spoken to you on this day of the 
life and happiness of children. I wish to speak to 
you this evening of the sufferings and sorrows of 
children, and concerning children — or rather, I will 
say, of the happiness which out of their sufferings 
and sorrows God intends to bring to us. 

First let me speak of the death of children. It 
is one of the chief thoughts placed before us by the 
Festival of the Innocents — the Holy Innocents, as 
they are called. We know nothing about those 
little children of Bethlehem, except that they died. 
What is the good which can be brought to any of 

1 I have been reminded that a sermon on this text was 
preached by Dr. Doddridge on the death of a beloved child, 
the words having been written actually on the child's coffin. 



serm. vi. SICK CHILDREN. 55 

us, old or young, by the death of those dear little 
ones, who had been lent to us for so short a time 
that we seem to have lost them almost before we 
have time to know them ? ' Is it well with the 
child ? ' said Elisha to the mother of the little boy 
that he had known from his birth. The little boy 
was dead ; but the poor mother was still able to 
say, 'It is well.' Yes, there are several ways in 
which, even in this hard trial, we may say, ' It is 
wehV ' It is well,' because in God's sight all that 
happens is well, if only we use it rightly. ' It is 
well,' because the child that dies in its innocence 
is taken, if any human creature is, to the presence 
of God and of Jesus Christ. He Himself has told 
us that the characters of little children are the 
likeness of the characters in heaven. When we 
think of heaven we think of them. ' It is well,' 
because it makes, or ought to make, on our hearts 
an impression which perhaps nothing else can 
make. Even a hard-hearted man, when his child 
dies, or his little brother dies, is deeply moved. 
He thinks that he might have been more kind 
whilst they lived. He looks at the little vacant 
chair, and his eyes fill with tears. 

And we are comforted by thinking of them. 

I have heard of a little child dying with such 



56 SICK CHILDREN. serm. vi. 

bright and beautiful visions before him that his 
countenance was quite transfigured, and glowed as 
with heavenly colours ; and his parents, as they 
iooked at him, were more than consoled. They 
went away strengthened in their faith and hopeful 
in their good deeds. 

This Abbey is full of the remembrances of great 
men and famous women. But it is also full of the 
remembrances of little boys and girls whose death 
shot a pang through the hearts of those who loved 
them, and who wished that they never should be 
forgotten. 

Almost the earliest royal monument in this 
Abbey is of a beautiful little deaf and dumb girl of 
faz years old — the Princess Catherine, daughter of 
King Henry III., who loved her dearly. She has 
not been forgotten, nor have her two little brothers, 
and perhaps four little nephews, who were buried 
close to her, as if to keep her company. And so 
there are two small tombs in Henry VII.'s chapel of 
the two infant daughters of King James I. Over 
one of them are some touching lines written by an 
American lady, which all mothers should read. 
And to these tombs of these two little girls were 
brought in after days by their nephew, Charles II., 
the bones of the two young murdered princes, 



serm. vi. SICK CHILDREN. 57 

which in his time were discovered at the foot of 
the staircase in the Tower. 

And there is in the chapel of St. Nicholas 
another tomb of a little child that died from a 
mistake of its nurse ; and we know 2 from her will 
that she never ceased to lament the little darling, 
and begged very urgently, if possible, to be buried 
beside it. And there is in the cloisters the 
monument mentioned on a previous occasion, 3 
which contains only these words, 'Jane Lister, 
dear child/ with the date and the record of her 
brother's previous death. It is an inscription which 
goes to the heart of every one. It was in the year 
1688, just a month before the great English 
Revolution, but the parents thought only of ' Jane 
Lister/ their ' dear child/ 

Do not forget the dead children. They are 
not forgotten in Westminster Abbey, they ought 
never to be forgotten elsewhere. Mothers, parents, 
who, like Rachel, mourn for some dear daughter 
or son, think that they are still yours, to animate 
and urge you forwards. That was a true answer 
which the little girl made to the poet Wordsworth, 
who asked how many they were — 

2 Colonel Chester's edition of The Registers of West- 
minster Abbe)', p. 220. 3 See p. 20. 



58 SICK CHILDREN. serm. vi, 

( Seven boys and girls are we ; 

Two of us in the churchyard lie, 

Beneath the churchyard tree.' 

' How many are you then ? ' said I, 

1 If they two are in heaven ? ' 
Quick was the little Maid's reply, 
' O Master, we are seven ! ' 

And there is another beautiful poem by the father 
of three sons : 4 two were living, but the third was 
dead. Of him he thus speaks : — 

I have a son — a third sweet son ; his age I cannot tell, 
For they reckon not by years and months where he is gone 

to dwell. . . . 
I cannot tell what form is his, what look he weareth now, 
Nor guess how bright a glory crowns his shining seraph 

brow. . . . 

But I know, for God doth tell me this, that he is now at 

rest, 
Where other blessed infants be, on their Saviour's loving 

breast. . . . 
Whate'er befall his brethren twain, his bliss can never 

cease ; 
Their lot may here be grief and fear, but his is certain 

peace. 

But I would not speak only of dead children. 

I will speak of sick children, of children who have 

some illness or infirmity, crippled, or w T eak, or 

ailing, like some of those who are here to-day from 

4 Moultrie's poem on ' The Three Sons,' 



serm. vi. SICK CHILDREN. 59 

the Royal Infirmary for Children. 'Is it well ' with 
those suffering little ones ? Yes, ' it is well,' for 
th£m and for us, if we take the sickness as it is 
intended by our heavenly tather. 

There is a beautiful picture, by the famous 
painter Holbein, of a family who are praying, or 
perhaps giving thanks, for the recovery of their 
sick child ; and the prayer is supposed to be 
granted by the appearance of the child Jesus in 
the midst of the family, happy and strong, whilst 
the poor sickly child is represented as in the arms 
of the Virgin Mother, taken as her own. That is 
a likeness to us of what we ought to hope for in 
the case of our sick and ailing children. The sick- 
ness may perhaps continue, but the sufferer may 
be under the protection of our good Father, and 
nursed as it were for Himself ; and amongst us 
the child, the inner spirit of the child, which will 
grow up amidst suffering and weakness, is like the 
spirit of the holy child Jesus, happy and strong, 
and pure and good. 

Sickness and illness may make a child fretful 
and selfish, and the people about a sick child may 
spoil it by giving up everything to it, and encourag- 
ing it to ask for everything. But it may also teach 
a child to be patient and considerate, and grateful 



6o SICK CHILDREN. serm. vi. 



for all the care it gets ; and then, instead of being 
a source of sorrow and vexation in the household, 
it becomes a source of instruction and comfort to 
all. 

I will try to make this clear to you from several 
examples. One is taken from a story : it is one 
which some of you may have read, called the 
' Heir of Redclyffe.' In that story is described a 
sickly boy called Charles. He is, at the beginning 
of the story, like one of those fretful, peevish in- 
valids of whom I spoke just now ; speaking sharply 
and crossly to every one, and making every one's 
will bend to his. But in the course of the story 
there comes into the house another boy full of 
health and life, but also full of generosity and 
kindness, and the sickly, selfish boy turns over a 
new leaf ; his character is transformed as the story 
goes on. He still remains a suffering cripple, but 
he becomes the stay and support of the house ; 
instead of always demanding comfort from them, 
he, in all the troubles of the family, gives comfort 
to all the others. 

This is from a story, an imaginary tale of what 
might happen. Now I will tell you of what has 
happened. It is a contrast between two boys in 
Scotland, to which my attention was called some 



serm. vi. SICK CHILDREN. 61 

time ago by an excellent Scottish judge, now dead. 5 
They were boys who both became famous in after 
life, and many of you have heard of their names. 
One was Lord Byron, the other was Sir Walter 
Scott. Well, both these boys had the same kind 
of misfortune. Both Lord Byron and Walter Scott, 
from their earliest years, were lame. Each of them 
had what is called a club foot, or something very 
like it. But now what was the different effect pro- 
duced by this lame foot on the two boys ? Lord 
Byron, who was a perverse, selfish boy, was made 
by this club foot discontented and angry with every 
one about him. It entered like iron into his soul. It 
poisoned his heart. It set him against all mankind, 
and it injured his whole character. He had a 
splendid genius, but amidst many fine qualities it 
was a genius blackened and discoloured by hatred, 
malice, uncharitableness, and the deepest gloom. 
Walter Scott, on the other hand, never lost his 
cheerfulness. His lame foot made him turn to the 
reading of good old books, and to the enjoyment 
of the beautiful sights and sounds about him, and 
he too grew to be a great poet and the writer of 
stories which will live in every age and in every 
country. But in him the lameness which he had 
5 Lord N eaves. 



62 SICK CHILDREN. serm. vi. 

borne patiently and cheerfully in childhood never 
interfered with his kindliness and his good-humour 
to those about him. He was a delight to all that 
came across him, and even when he was at last 
overtaken by heavier misfortunes he never lost his 
loving, generous disposition. The lameness which 
in Byron turned to what St. Paul calls a savour of 
death unto death, became in Walter Scott a savour 
of life unto life,, 

This, then, is the lesson which I would wish to 
teach to all children who are sickly and suffering, 
or who may become sickly and suffering : Do not 
think that you are without an object, do not think 
that you cannot be useful, do not think that every- 
thing has gone against you. No. It is well with 
you : you can be most useful, you can be the 
useful child; and when you grow up you can be 
the useful man or the useful woman in the home. 
You can arrange plans of amusement for the others 
who are too busy to arrange them for themselves. 
You can show by your constant cheerfulness that 
happiness does not depend on the good things 
which you eat, or on the active games which you 
play, but on a contented, joyful heart. You can 
make them feel that there is a better world above, 
where you hope to be, and where you may be 



serm. vi. SICK CHILDREN. 63 

almost now, because your thoughts are with God 
and with Jesus Christ. And you children who are 
strong and healthy, remember that to you this 
little sick brother or little sick sister, is a blessing 
that God has given you. It is well for you to have 
them. They may not be able to share in your 
games ; you will often be obliged to be quiet in 
their sick room, or when they come amongst you. 
But that is good for you, because it makes you see 
very early the joy, the happiness, the usefulness, of 
having some one weaker than yourselves whom you 
can protect ; some one in pain or suffering to whom 
you can minister like a ministering angel. Do not 
be hasty or angry with a deaf brother, or I may 
say a deaf mother or aunt, because they cannot 
hear you ; or a blind sister, or I may say a blind 
father or uncle, because they cannot see you ; or 
with a lame or deformed brother or cousin or com- 
panion, because they cannot take an active part 
in your amusements. No. They cannot do this ; 
but they can do much better than this for you, 
because they make you feel for deafness and blind- 
ness and lameness everywhere. When you have 
seen it in those you love, you will be reminded of 
it in those you do not love. 

And if you have had any of these misfortunes 



64 SICK CHILDREN. serm. vl 

yourselves, and have grown out of them, the recol- 
lection of what you have suffered may make you 
of much use to others. There is a distinguished 
man, very high in rank, and of absolutely indispens- 
able value in the public service of his Church and 
country, who when a little boy was very lame. 6 He 
recovered, but he never lost his fellow-feeling for 
lame people ; and once, when we were walking 
together, I remember that he gave some money to 
a poor lame man who opened the gate for us, and 
he told me that he always did so, in remembrance 
of his own lameness. 

Learn to be tender to your suffering brothers or 
sisters. You who are sick or weakly, always keep 
up that fellow-feeling. It will make your weakness 
or illness a blessing, and not a curse. You who are 
well and have sick friends, you also try to keep up 
that fellow-feeling. In the story of Elisha and the 
sick child, we are told that when he hoped to re- 
store the child to health ' he went up and lay upon 
the child, and put his mouth upon the child's 
mouth, and his eyes upon the child's eyes, and his 
hands upon the child's hands ; and he stretched 
himself upon the child,' and the flesh of the 
child waxed warm. This is a likeness of the sym- 
6 Archbishop Tait. 



serm. vi. SICK CHILDREN, 65 

pathy which all in health, whether old or young, 
should try to have for those who are in pain or 
infirmity. We give life and happiness to the sick 
by giving them, as it were, a taste of our life and 
happiness ; our words are words to them, our eyes 
are eyes to them, our hands are hands to them. 
There were some sailors who were stranded on a 
desert rock on a freezing night. There was one 
little midshipman amongst them ; they put their 
clothes upon him, they covered him up. They all 
were found dead in the morning ; but, if I remem- 
ber right, the little boy, through their kindness, 
survived — their warmth had saved him, they died 
that he might live. And so, even without such 
great efforts, we should try to put ourselves in the 
place of our sick and suffering companions. We 
should try to feel for them, as we should wish them 
to feel for us, to tell them of the happy and beau- 
tiful things of the outside world, to make them 
understand that they are not forgotten, to show 
them what is the sphere in which they can be useful. 
It is for this reason that hospitals for sick 
children are so much to be encouraged. In old 
barbarous heathen times the life of a sick or de- 
formed child was not thought worth preserving. 
The sickly children were thrown on the road as 

F 



66 SICK CHILDREN, serm. vi. 

not worth saving. But they are worth saving ; 
they may be the saving of those about them. One 
of the first great changes that were made by 
Christianity was that those sick children left to 
perish were adopted by kind men and women, who 
brought them up as their own. And so not only 
in hospitals, but in every family where there is a 
sick child, remember that it is your duty, your 
privilege, to look after such. If you are kind to 
them God will be kind to you. They are your 
special charges ; they are the good things committed 
by God to us for our keeping. They are our ear- 
liest and best teachers in the good way. Who- 
ever does anything for them does it to the good 
God and merciful Saviour who entrusted them to 
us. And we shall not lose our reward. // will be 
well for the children and it will be well for us. 



VII. 
ST. CHRISTOPHER. 

(December 28, 1878.) 

Like as the arrows in the hand of the giant \ even so are 
the young children. — Ps. cxxvii. 5. 

There is an old story, a kind of Sunday fairy tale, 
which you may sometimes have seen represented 
in pictures and statues in ancient churches (there 
are two sculptures of it in King Henry VII. 's 
chapel in this church), of a great heathen giant 
who wished to find out some master that he should 
think worthy of his service, some one stronger 
than himself. He went about the world, but 
could find no one stronger. And besides this, he 
was anxious to pray to God, but did not know how 
to do it. At last he met with a good old man by 
the side of a deep river, where poor wayfaring 
people wanted to get across, and had no one to 
help them. And the good old man said to the 

f 2 



68 ST CHRISTOPHER. serm. vii. 

giant, l Here is a place where you can be of some 
use ; and if you do not know how to pray, you will, 
at any rate, know how to work, and perhaps God 
will give you what you ask, and perhaps also you 
will at last find a master stronger than you.' So 
the giant went and sat by the river-side, and many 
a time he carried poor wayfarers across. One 
night he heard a little child crying to be carried 
over ; so he put the child on his shoulder and 
strode across the stream. Presently the wind blew, 
the rain fell, and as the river beat against his knees 
he felt the weight of the little child almost greater 
than he could bear, and he looked up with his 
great, patient eyes (there is a beautiful picture in a 
beautiful palace at Venice, where we see him with 
his face turned upwards as he tries to steady him- 
self in the raging waters), and he saw that it was 
a child glorious and shining ; and the child said, 
' Thou art labouring under this heavy burden 
because thou art carrying One who bears the sins 
of all the world.' And then as the story goes 
on, the giant felt that it was the child Jesus, and 
when he reached the other side of the river he fell 
down before Him. Now he had found some one 
stronger than he was, some one so good, so worthy 
of loving, as to be a master whom he could serve. 



serm. vii. ST CHRISTOPHER. 69 

In later days the thought of the giant Christopher 
(the ' bearer of the child Christ ') was so dear to men, 
that his picture was often painted very large on the 
churches, so that those who saw it far off should 
have a pleasant and holy remembrance through the 
day which would save them from running into evil. 
But we all may learn from it two useful lessons, 
which may keep us from evil and lead us into good. 
The first lesson is that often, when we know 
not how to believe or how to pray, we at any rate 
may know how to work for the good of others, and 
then God accepts this as if it were a prayer. There 
is an old Latin saying, Labor are est or are — or, if we 
were to turn it into English, we should say, — 

Good working and good playing 
Is almost like good praying. 

Or, as some one else has said, — 

He prayeth well who loveth well 
Both man and bird and beast. 

We ought all of us to say our prayers ; they will 
help us to do what is good : but we must also all 
remember that our prayers are no use unless we 
strive, both in our work and in our play, 

To live more nearly as we pray. 



70 ST. CHRISTOPHER. serm. vii. 

This is one lesson which we may carry with us 
from the story of St. Christopher, and one which 
applies to all, whether grown-up people or children. 
Pray and work, work and pray, do as much good as 
you can, and God will reward and receive you at last. 

But there is another lesson which more es- 
pecially applies to the sight of a congregation of 
children with their parents and friends. The child 
Jesus, who, according to the story, was carried on 
the shoulders of the giant, was the type and like- 
ness of all children. That is one reason why w r e 
think so much of Christmas ; why Christmas is so 
much more loved than even Easter or Whitsun- 
tide. It is because we feel that the birth and the 
childhood of our Lord contained the promise of 
His manhood, because we have our hearts drawn 
towards the tender, innocent child who, when He 
grew up, suffered so much and endured so much 
for the good of mankind. And that may be the 
case, more or less, with all children. That is why 
our Saviour looked upon them with such confid- 
ence, such reverence, and such affection. 'Of 
such/ He said, ' is the kingdom of heaven.' Of 
such and out of such characters as were wrapped 
up in the little beings which He saw before Him, 
and which we now see before us, is the hope of the 



serm. vii. ST. CHRISTOPHER. 71 

coming time. You who are the parents, you who 
are responsible for the training of these children, 
you bear upon your shoulders a burden like that 
which the giant of the old story carried ; you bear 
a burden greater, perhaps, than you know how to 
bear — the burden of forming their characters ; the 
burden, perchance, of the destinies of the coming 
age. Rejoice in them, and while remembering 
how heavy is the responsibility which presses upon 
you, be encouraged to carry your little burdens, 
safely over the great river of life, which is also the 
great river of death. Remember also that as St. 
Christopher in the old story was saved by carrying 
the Child, so we may be saved by the children 
carrying us ; they may help by their innocence and 
truthfulness to teach us now and to help us here- 
after ; they may be as that little child which 
Elisha cured, who it was supposed afterwards grew 
to be the great prophet Jonah ; or that other little 
child in the Gospels who, as the early Christians 
believed, grew to be the great Christian martyr 
Ignatius. 

But as the children are the burden, the quiver 
on our shoulders, so they are, as the text says, 
' like as the arrows in the hand of the giant,' like 
the arrows which a mighty archer shoots into the 



72 ST. CHRISTOPHER. serm. vii. 

darkness, piercing hearts which are far away. These 
children, if rightly trained and rightly nurtured, 
may indeed be the blessing of times to come ; nay, 
more, they may be blessings even while they are 
yet children. Let me give you one simple in- 
stance. It is a story, not like that old fairy story 
with which I began this sermon, but a real story of 
our own time. I found it in a sermon 1 by a power- 
ful preacher in one of the strange cities of North 
America, but describing what happened in our own 
country on a cold winter day like those which 
we have just had. Listen to it, parents ; listen 
to it, dear children, for if you have understood 
nothing else of what I have said, you will under- 
stand this. Not long ago, in Edinburgh, two 
gentlemen were standing at the door of an hotel 
one very cold day, when a little boy with a poor 
thin blue face, his feet bare and red with the cold, 
and with nothing to cover him but a bundle of rags, 
came and said, 'Please, sir, buy some matches/ 
'No, I don't want any/ the gentleman said. 'But 
they are only a penny a box,' the poor little fellow 

1 c The Life that now is : ' Sermons, by Robert Collyer, 
of Chicago, pp. 260-64. The story is taken from this 
volume almost word for word, and I have incorporated 
some of the preacher's forcible remarks. 



serm. vii. ST. CHRISTOPHER. 73 

pleaded. ' Yes, but you see we don't want a box,' 
the gentleman said again. 'Then I will gie ye 
twa boxes for a penny,' the boy said at last ; ' and 
so to get rid of him ' (the gentleman who tells the 
story says) ' I bought a box ; but then I found I 
had no change, so I said, " I will buy a box to- 
morrow." "Oh, do buy them to-night, if you 
please," the boy pleaded again ; " I will run and 
get ye the change, for I am verra hungry." So I 
gave him the shilling, and he started away. I 
waited for him, but no boy came. Then I thought 
I had lost my shilling ; still there was that in the 
boy's face I trusted, and I did not like to think ill 
of him. Late in the evening I was told that a 
little boy wanted to see me. When he was brought 
in I found it was a smaller brother of the boy that 
got my shilling, but if possible still more ragged 
and poor and thin. He stood a moment, diving 
into his rags as if he was seeking something, and 
then said, "Are you the gentleman that bought 
the matches frae Sandie ? " " Yes." " Weel, then, 
here's fourpence out o' yer shilling ; Sandie cannot 
come ; he's very ill ; a cart ran ower him and 
knocked him down, and he lost his bonnet and his 
matches and your sevenpence, and both his legs 
are broken, and the doctor says he'll die ; and 



74 ST. CHRISTOPHER. serm. vii. 

that's a'." And then, putting the fourpence on the 
table, the poor child broke down into great sobs. 
So I fed the little man, and I went with him to see 
Sandie. I found that the two little things lived 
almost alone, their father and mother being dead. 
Poor Sandie was lying on a bundle of shavings : he 
knew me as soon as I came in, and said, " I got the 
change, sir, and was coming back ; and then the 
horse knocked me down, and both my legs were 
broken ; — and oh, Reuby ! little Reuby ! I am 
sure I am dying, and who will take care of you 
when I am gone ? What will ye do, Reuby ? " 
Then I took his hand, and said that I would 
always take care of Reuby. He understood me, 
and had just strength to look up at me as if to 
thank me : the light went out of his blue eyes ; in 
a moment — 

He lay within the light of God, 

Like a babe upon the breast, 
Where the wicked cease from troubling, 

And the weary are at rest.' 

That story is like an arrow in the hand of a giant. 
It ought to pierce many a heart, old and young. 
Whenever, dear children, you are tempted to say 
what is not true, or to be hard on other little boys 
and girls, or to take what you ought not to take, 



serm. vii. ST. CHRISTOPHER. 75 

we want you to remember little Sandie. This poor 
little boy, lying on a bundle of shavings, dying and 
starving, was tender, and trusty, and true ; and so 
God told the gentleman to take poor little friend- 
less Reuben, and be a friend to him, and Sandie 
heard him say he would do it — the last thing he 
ever did hear ; and then the dark room, the bundle 
of shavings, the weary, broken little limbs, all faded 
away, and Sandie was among the angels, who could 
look at him in his new home, and say one to 
another, c That is the little boy who kept his word, 
and sent back fourpence ; that is the little boy who 
was tender, and trusty, and true, when he was 
hungry and faint, and when both his legs were 
broken, and he lay dying.' This story is told 
you now because, whether it be hard or easy, we 
want you to be tender, and trusty, and true, as 
poor little Sandie, who did not forget his promise, 
and who loved his little brother to the end. 



VIII. 
THE CHILDREN'S CREED. 

(December 27, 1879.) 

/ have no greater joy than to hear that my children ivalk in 
truth. — 3 John 4. 

As once before, so now, we have brought you 
together on St. John's Day, because Innocents' Day 
falls on a Sunday. Those words which I have 
read from St. John well express what all of us 
ought to feel — ' We have no greater joy than that 
our children, than that the rising generation, should 
walk in truth.' And I have, therefore, thought it 
useful to set forth what are the religious truths 
which we should try to teach our children, and 
which our children should try to learn. Some of 
what I say will be chiefly addressed to parents 
and friends ; some of what I say will be chiefly ad- 
dressed to children. But I hope that most will find 



SERM. viii. THE CHILDREN'S CREED. 77 

— some in one part, some in another— something 
to instruct them. 

There are two points to be mentioned at the 
outset which might seem difficult to reconcile, but 
which in fact wonderfully agree, and are a support 
to each other. On the one hand, what we teach 
to children should be truths which will stand the 
wear and tear of time as they grow up. Solomon 
says, ' Train up a child in the way he should go : 
and when he is old, he will not depart from it.' 
That is very true, but in order that he should not 
depart from it when he is old, it must be a way 
which, when he is old, he will find to be as good 
for him as it was when he was young. On the 
other hand, we must try to teach a child what he 
will understand, in the simplest and not in the 
hardest words, in the words which sink deepest 
into his soul and lay most hold on his heart. This, 
perhaps we might think, cannot be the truth in 
which the child will feel most delight when it grows 
older. Not perhaps in the very same forms ; but 
we may be sure, and our Saviour Himself has told 
us, that the instruction which is most suitable for 
a little child is also the most suitable for the oldest 
and wisest of men. 

I. What then shall we teach our children to 



78 THE CHILDREN'S CREED, serm. viii. 

believe, which when they grow up they may find 
that later experience does not require them to 
alter ? 

(i) We must teach them that, beyond what they 
feel and see and touch, there is something better 
and greater, which they can neither feel nor see nor 
touch. Goodness, kindness to one another, un- 
selfishness, fairness, and uprightness — these are the 
best things in all the world. It is true that good- 
ness and kindness have no faces that we can kiss — 
no hands that we can clasp ; but they are certainly 
close to us, both in the midst of our work and our 
play. And this goodness and kindness which, ex- 
cept in outward acts, we cannot see, is something 
which existed before we were born. It is from this 
that we have all the pleasant things of this world — 
the flowers, the sunshine, the moonlight — all these 
were given us by some great kindness and good- 
ness which we have never seen at all. And this 
Goodness and this Love are the Great Power out of 
which all things come, which we call by the name 
of God. And because God is so much above us 
and so good to us, we call Him by the name which 
is most dear to us of all earthly names — our Father. 
When a father goes away from home, still his 
children know that he is somewhere, though they 



serm. viii. THE CHILDREN'S CREED. 79 

cannot see him, and they know what to do in order 
to please him. So it is with the great unseen 
Father of us all. Let us then teach our children 
that God is Goodness and Justice ; that the rules 
which He has laid down for the government of the 
world are His will and wish for us ; even frost and 
cold, even sickness and pain, are for our good, and 
we must trust that he has some good reason for it, 
perhaps to make us strong, and brave, and healthy. 
It is for this reason that you see in the Abbey, on 
the monument of Sir John Franklin, who was so 
long shut up in the ice, the words, ' O ye Frost and 
Cold ; O ye Ice and Snow; bless ye the Lord ; 
praise Him, and magnify Him for ever.' This, 
then, in various ways, is our way of expressing our 
belief in our Father in heaven. 

(2) But this highest kindness and fairness are 
like what we have seen and heard of in the world. 
Children can see it in their good parents, their 
good uncles and aunts, their good brothers and 
sisters \ and as they grow older they will find that 
there have always been good people, and they will 
hear that there was once one Child, one Man, so good 
to all about Him, so good to little children, that 
He has shown us better than any one else what is 
the true likeness of that unseen Goodness which 



8o THE CHILDREN'S CREED, serm. viii. 

we call God, and which we still hope to know in 
heaven. Children should be taught what Jesus 
Christ did and said when He went about doing 
good, and should be made to understand that only 
so far as we are like to Jesus Christ, or like what 
Jesus Christ loved when He was in the world, 
can we be His friends or followers. He was good, 
and He went through all sorts of trouble and pain, 
even to His death on the cross, for no other reason 
but to make us good. This will help us to under- 
stand why He is called the Son of God, the Saviour 
of men. 

(3) And children should learn to know that 
there is in the heart of every one of us something 
which tells when we have done right or wrong, 
which makes the colour come into our cheeks when 
we have said what is not true, something which we 
must treat with honour and respect both in ourselves 
and others. What is this ? There are many names 
by which you will hear it called in after life, but there 
is one name which we speak of almost in a whisper, 
because we do not like to think or speak of it as if 
it were a common thing. We call it ' the voice of 
God,' the invisible Power all around, which also is 
within us — the ' Breath' or the 'Spirit of God/ 
which we cannot see any more than we can see our 



serm. viii. THE CHILDREN'S CREED. 81 

own breath or spirit — and because it is so good we 
call it ' the Holy Spirit of God.' And from this 
* Breath or Spirit of God ' comes all the good not 
only in ourselves but in other people ; and children 
cannot learn too early to admire and love all that 
is admirable and lovable in the men, women, and 
children that they see around them. They may, 
perhaps, also be able to learn the great lesson that 
there are things to be admired and loved in people 
they do not like, in people that hurt and annoy 
them, or even in those whom they ought to avoid. 
And if, as sometimes happens, children are brought 
up in other countries where they see that people 
do not always go to the same church, or utter the 
same prayers as they and their parents, they mav 
learn thus early a lesson which they never will 
forget — namely, that our heavenly Father has those 
who serve Him and do good in many different 
ways, but still in and by the same Good Spirit. 

II. These are the chief things which we ought 
to learn from our catechism as to what the young 
should believe. And now, what must we teach 
them as to what they should do? St. John, when 
he was a very old man, so old that he could not 
walk, and could hardly speak, used to be carried 
\n the arms of his friends into the midst of the 

G 



82 THE CHILDREN'S CREED, serm. viii. 

assembly of Christians, and then he would lift him- 
self up and say, ' Little children, love one another ; ' 
and again, * Little children, love one another ; ' and 
again, 'Little children, love one another.' When 
asked, 'Have you nothing else to tell us?' he 
replied, c I say this over and over again, because if 
you do this there is nothing more needed.' Now, 
that is something like what I would say to you. 
What you have to be told to do is very simple. It 
is that you should be kind and loving to one 
another, for then you will be loving towards God, 
because you will be doing that which He most 
desires. Try not to vex or tease your smaller 
brothers or sisters ; try to help them when they are 
in difficulty ; do not be jealous of them ; do not 
tell stories against them; above all, do not lead 
them into mischief, because the worst harm you 
can do to a young child is to tempt him to do what 
is wrong. If he once begins you cannot stop him, 
and many years afterwards he will remember with 
bitter grief and indignation that you were the first 
to lead him astray into evil ways. A lie that is 
told, a deceit that is practised, a bad word that is 
heard, a bad act that is lightly spoken of, often 
enters into the mind of a young child, and remains 
there all his life. There is a proverb which says, 



SERM. vin. THE CHILDREN'S CREED. 83 

' Little pitchers have long ears ; ' and it means that 
little children often hear more than you think they 
hear, and keep in their memory things which you 
think they must have forgotten. It is the same, in 
other words, as a Latin proverb, which those boys 
w T ho understand Latin will translate for themselves 
— maxima debetur piieris reverentia. The greatest 
reverence, the greatest fear should restrain us from 
doing anything by false, or vulgar, or foolish words 
to spoil the conscience, or the taste, or the charac- 
ter of a little boy. You know what you mean by a 
spoiled picture, or a spoiled book \ the colours are 
blurred, the leaves are rumpled. That is what 
we mean by a child whose character is spoiled or 
stained by the foolish indulgence or neglect of those 
about him. Parents, try not to spoil your children. 
Children, try not to spoil one another \ and take 
care not to be spoiled yourselves. That is one 
of the most important ways of fulfilling St. John's 
precept both for old and young, c Little children, 
love — do not spoil — one another.' And there is 
another part of this precept which children should 
be taught : it is that love and kindness include not 
only our brothers and sisters and relatives, but also 
poor people who are in suffering or want ; and not 
only these, but also the poor dumb creatures that 

G 2 



84 THE CHILDREN'S CREED, serm. viii. 

depend upon us. Never be rude to any poor man 
or woman because they are in rags, or because they 
look and talk differently from ourselves. Never be 
cruel to any dog, or cat, or bird. There was once a 
very cruel Roman emperor — cruel to men, women, 
and children — who, when he was a little boy, used 
to amuse himself by tormenting flies. Perhaps if 
he had been stopped then he would not have had 
his heart hardened against his fellow-men. 

III. And now how are you to be strength- 
ened to believe and to do these things? There 
are many ways, but I will mention only two. By 
reading good books and by learning good prayers. 

(i) Good books. First of all, the best parts 
of the Bible ; for even in the best of all books, 
the Bible, there are some parts more useful, more 
easy, more likely to stand the trials of time than 
others. Learn these, teach these, and you will 
then find that the more difficult parts will not per- 
plex those who in their early childhood have had 
a firm grasp of those parts of which the truth and 
beauty belong not to the vesture that is folded up 
and vanisheth away, but to the wisdom and grace 
which endure for ever. And of other good books, 
let the stories of the good and great men of our 
own or former times be fixed in our remembrance. 



serm. viii. THE CHILDREN'S CREED. 85 

How many such stories there are, which, as Sir 
Philip Sydney said of Chevy Chase, stir our souls 
and spirits as with a trumpet ! How many are 
there which will make our blood boil against the 
evil-doer, or our hearts beat with admiration for 
generous and noble deeds ! There was a famous 
French soldier of bygone days whose name you will 
see written in this Abbey on the gravestone of Sir 
James Outram, because in many ways he was like 
Bayard. Bayard was a small boy, only thirteen, 
when he went into his first service, and his mother 
told him to remember three things : * first, to fear 
and love God ; secondly, to have gentle and 
courteous manners to those above him \ and 
thirdly, to be generous and charitable, without 
pride or haughtiness, to those beneath him : ' and 
these three things he never forgot, which helped to 
make him the soldier ' without fear and without 
reproach/ These are the stories which are part of 
the heritage of all the families of the earth, and 
ought to be cherished from the first to the last. 

(2) And what must we teach, what must be 
learnt about prayer ? Let no parent forget, let no 
child forget, to say a prayer, however short, at 
morning and at evening. It will help to make you 
better all the day. The Lord's Prayer will never fail 



86 THE CHILDREN'S CREED, serm. viii. 

you. The child will be able to understand it, the 
old man will find it expressing all that he wants. 
And there is also that form of prayer which is 
expressed in hymns. There are hymns which can 
be remembered better than anything else, and 
which in restless, sleepless nights of pain and 
suffering will come back to our minds, many, many 
years after they were learnt in childhood. Amongst 
these let me recommend the Morning and Evening 
Hymns, written by one of the best of Englishmen, 
Bishop Ken — the first beginning, 'Awake, my soul, 
and with the sun ; ' and the other, ' Glory to Thee, 
my God, this night.' Not long ago I was visiting 
an aged and famous statesman, 1 and he repeated 
to me, word by word, the Evening Hymn, as he 
had learnt it, he told me, from his nurse ninety 
years before. So may it be with you, my dear 
children, not only with hymns, but with the other 
good things which you may learn now, and perhaps 
when you are like that old, very old man, grown 
gray in the service of his country, and full of years 
and honours, you may remember that when you 
were children you heard something which you have 
not forgotten on the festival of St. John, on the 
eve of Innocents' Day, in Westminster Abbey. 
1 Lord Stratford de RedclifFe. 



IX. 
TALITHA CUMI. 

(December 28, 1880.) 

Let me take this evening the story of our Saviour's 
kindness to a little girl. There was in Capernaum 
a well-known house where lived one of the chief 
officers of the synagogue. His name was Jairus. 
In that house was one only child, a little daughter 
of twelve years old, just at the age when a child 
has had time to endear itself to its parents, when 
its character first comes to be seen and known. 
The child was thought to be dying. The father 
heard that the Great Healer had just crossed the 
lake. He w r as feasting in the house of Levi, the 
publican. The father rushes in ; he falls at His feet ; 
— he entreats Him to come and save his daughter. 
The Lord arose ; that little life was as precious 
in His sight as the souls of those whom He was 
convincing by His divine wisdom. He who said, 



88 TALITHA CUML serm. ix, 

' Suffer the little children to come unto Me,' was 
as eager, if one may so say, to soothe the sick 
bed of this small Galilean maiden as though He 
had nothing else to do. For Him the thought of 
human sickness, the call of a suffering parent, was 
the most sacred of human duties. He came at 
once. All along the shore and all through the 
streets He had to force his way through the dense 
crowd, thronging ever more and more closely 
round Him. Whilst He thus struggled with the 
crowd, a messenger broke through the press with 
the sad tidings that it was too late. ' Thy daughter 
is dead.' Amidst the surging of the crowd, and 
above the hum of many voices, the Master's wakeful 
ear heard the whisper of the messenger. He bade the 
father still keep up his heart. ' Fear not,' He said, 
1 only believe.' 'Fear not/ He says to all anxious 
mourners. ■ Fear not the dark and dreary void into 
which thy loved one has passed. Fear not that 
God will desert thee in thine hour of need. Fear 
not but that thou wilt once more see the child, the 
parent, the brother, the sister thou hast lost. Only 
believe in the lovingkindness of God our Saviour. 
Only believe that He who makes the flowers to 
spring and the buds to come forth again, will raise 
that little flower, will help that bursting blossom of 



serm. ix. TALITHA CUMI. 89 

the human soul.' He reaches the house. The hired 
mourners of Eastern countries are already there, 
wailing and shrieking, as is their wont. He put 
them all aside. He said to the parents, 'She is not 
dead, but sleepeth ' ; words that have often brought 
comfort to parents hanging over the face of their 
dead child in the hope of the general resurrection ; 
words that are written in this church, on the pede- 
stal of one of the children of the great family of 
Russell, who died in the reign of Queen Elizabeth. 
He touched the hand of the child, as she lay on 
her couch as if in the sleep of death. He addressed 
her in words which have been handed down liter- 
ally. It is doubtful, in His discourses generally, 
what language our Saviour spoke— whether Greek 
or Syriac ; but here, at any rate, the Syriac words 
are given. They are, ' Talitha cumi ' ; that is, c My 
little lamb, my little pet lamb, rise up.' With these 
endearing appellations He roused the sleeping soul. 
By these He showed to the parents that He was one 
with them in their parental love, in their domestic 
joy as well as in their domestic sorrow. And she 
came again to life, and was to them as before. 

Now let me apply this both to parents and 
children. Parents, remember what a gift, what 
an inestimable gift, is given to you in the soul 



90 TALITHA CUML serm. ix. 

of a little child ; how its playful ways are to you 
the special gift of God. Think what a sight it is 
to see an innocent little girl ; reflect how to any 
one except the most brutal of mankind such a 
sight banishes all thoughts of filthy language or 
foul deeds; remember that the tenderness and 
gentleness which the sight of such a little girl 
awakens is one of the best parts of your nature. 
If any of you doubt whether it is in you to be self- 
controlled and masters of yourselves, remember 
that, unless you are very bad indeed, you must 
be so in the presence of such a little being. Sir 
William Napier describes, in his 'History of the 
Peninsular War/ how affecting it was to see, at the 
battle of Busaco, in Portugal, a beautiful Portuguese 
orphan girl coming down the mountains, driving an 
ass loaded with all her property through the midst 
of the armies. She passed over the field of battle 
with a childish simplicity, scarcely understanding 
which were French and which were English, and 
no one on either side was so hard-hearted as to 
touch her. And let me give two stories which show 
how the strongest men are open to those tender 
kindly feelings which little children are given by 
our heavenly Father to promote in all of us. That 
same Sir William Napier once in his walks met 



serm. ix. TALITHA CUML 91 

with a little girl of five years old sobbing over a 
pitcher she had broken. She in her innocence 
asked him to mend it. He told her that he could 
not mend it, but that he would meet her trouble 
by giving her sixpence to buy a new one, if she 
would meet him there at the same hour the next 
evening, as he had no money in his purse that day. 
When he returned home he found that there was 
an invitation waiting for him, which he particularly 
wished to accept. But he could not then have met 
the little girl at the time stated, and he gave up the 
invitation, .saying, ' I could not disappoint her, she 
trusted in me so implicitly.' That was the true 
Christian gentleman and soldier. Another exam- 
ple is that of Martin Luther, one of the fiercest 
and most courageous men that ever lived. But 
when he thought of his little children, especially of 
his little daughter, he was as gentle and kind as 
any woman. His daughter Magdalen died when 
she was thirteen years of age, and it is most affecting 
to read his grief, and, at the same time, his resigna- 
tion. ' Magdalen, my little daughter, thou wouldst 
gladly stay with thy father here, and thou wouldst 
also gladly go to thy Father yonder/ ' Ah ! thou 
dear little thing, thou shalt rise again, and shine 
like a star ; yea, like the sun.' ' Her face, her 



92 TALITHA CUML serm. ix. 

words, cleave to our heart, remain fixed in its depths, 
living and dying — the words and looks of that most 
dutiful child. Blessed be the Lord Jesus Christ, 
who called, chose, and magnified her. I would for 
myself, and all of us, that we might attain to such 
a death ; yea, rather, to such a life.' 

And you, children, these words are also ad- 
dressed to you. ' My little lamb,' the very word 
tells to you how precious you are to the Good 
Shepherd. Arise, get up, bestir yourself! get up 
from any slothful habit, from any idle, selfish habit 
you have formed. Let His voice reach your inner- 
most heart, and raise you from the deepest sleep. 

There was a boy who used to carry parcels 
from a bookseller to his customers. He went 
every day trudging through the streets with a heavy 
parcel of books under his arm, and one day he 
was sent to the house of a great duke with three 
folio volumes of Clarendon's ' History of England/ 
The parcel was so heavy, his shoulders were so 
tired, that as he passed through Broad Sanctuary, 
opposite Westminster Abbey, he laid down the load, 
and sobbed at the thought that there was nothing 
higher in life for him to look forward to than being 
a bookseller's porter. Suddenly he looked up at 
the great building which towered above him. He 



serm. ix. TALITHA CUMI. 93 

thought of the high thoughts and the great men 
enshrined within it. He brushed away his tears, 
replaced the load on his shoulder, and walked 
on with a light heart, determined to bide his time. 
And his time came at last. He became one of the 
best and most learned of our Indian missionaries. 1 
There was a little girl living with her old grand- 
father. She was a good child, but he was not a 
very good man, and one day when the little child 
came back from school he put in writing over her 
bed, ' God is nowhere ' ; for he did not believe in 
the good God, and he was trying to make the little 
child believe the same. What did the little girl 
do ? She had no eyes to see, no ears to hear, what 
her grandfather tried to teach her. She was very 
small ; she could only read words of one syllable 
at the time ; she rose above the bad meaning 
which he tried to put into her mind ; she rose as 
we ought all to rise, above the temptation of our 
time 1 she rose into a higher and better world ; 
she rose because her little mind could not do 
otherwise, and she read the words, not ' God is 
now here J but ' God is noiv here* That is what w r e 
all should strive to do. Out of words which have 
no sense, or which have a bad sense, our eyes, our 
1 Dr. Joshua Marshman. 



94 TALITHA CUMI. serm. ix. 

minds, ought to be able to read a good sense. The 
old grandfather was touched and made serious, and 
we ought all of us to be made serious in like 
manner by the innocent questions and answers of 
our little children. God is now here. God is now, 
at this moment, watching over them and us. God 
is here, in this very Abbey, watching over the little 
children here assembled. God is in your homes, in 
your play, in your prayers, listening to you, as He is 
in this church, and He says to each one of you, to 
each one of us, i Talitha cumi ' — My little lamb, rise, 
mount up, be better this year than you were last 
year. Mount up, become better and wiser ; mount 
up, rise up, as if you were climbing a long ladder ; 
mount up, rise up, as if you were climbing a high 
mountain, and then you will be able to read those 
words, ' God is nozvhere] in their truest sense. 
They mean that God is in no particular place. 
That is true ; but it is not the whole truth — it is 
only half the truth, or, rather, it is, when taken 
by itself, the reverse of the truth. But when we 
make it ' God is noiv here, 1 it becomes a great truth, 
for it tells us that because God is in no particular 
place, therefore He is in all places. God is now 
here, for God is always everywhere— your help in 
ages past, your hope for years to come. 



X. 

THE BEATITUDES. 

(Saturday Afternoon, June 18, 1881.) 

And seeing the multitudes, He went up into a mountain : 
and zvhen He was set, His disciples ca?ne unto Him. 

Matt. v. i. 

It has been my wish, for some time since, to invite 
those who may be disengaged at this time of the 
year, and at this time of the day, to hear a few 
words which may perchance be useful to them on 
some of the serious matters connected with reli- 
gion. The season of the Christian year which we 
are now entering upon is not marked by any solemn- 
ity which conspicuously attracts us : Christmas is 
over, Lent is over, Easter is over, Whitsuntide and 
Trinity Sunday are over, and there is nothing to 
break the long and even tenor which continues 
onwards towards Advent. The absence of any 
such particular solemnity appears to leave a vacant 



96 THE BEATITUDES. serm. x. 

space in which we may possibly have an oppor- 
tunity of calling attention to those truths through 
which alone all other facts and doctrines of the 
Christian religion are important. 

I propose to speak of the Beatitudes pronounced 
by our Saviour on the characters in which He most 
delighted. They are all-important in several ways. 

First, they open that discourse which, whatever 
may be the difficulties of particular parts of it, has 
always been recognised as the most important 
part of the New Testament. Nothing else in 
the Gospels, nothing in St. PauFs Epistles, can 
compare with the interest which attaches to the 
words derived from our Saviour's lips on this occa- 
sion. It is, as it has been well called, the Magna 
Charta of Christianity. These Beatitudes corre- 
spond in the Christian religion to the Ten Com- 
mandments delivered on Mount Sinai ; they were 
intended by some good reformers of our Church 
Service to take the place of those Ten Command- 
ments on the three great festivals of the Christian 
Church which are now past. They are not ques- 
tioned, at least in their essential parts, by any of 
those various inquiries which have thrown some diffi- 
culty in the way of accepting this or that saying 
of our Saviour, this or that writing of His apostles. 



serm. xt THE BEATITUDES. 97 

Secondly, they put before us what are those 
qualities, and what are those results, which the 
Founder of our religion regarded as alone of supreme 
excellence. He does not say, 'Blessed are the 
Churchmen/ or 'Blessed are the Nonconformists'; 
He does not say, ' Blessed are the Presbyterians/ 
or ' Blessed are the Episcopalians ' ; He does not 
say, ' Blessed are the Methodists/ or ' Blessed are 
the Baptists ' ; He does not say, ' Blessed are the 
Roman Catholics/ or ' Blessed are the Protestants': 
but He says, 'Blessed are they who show those 
graces and virtues in their characters which may 
be found in every one of these communities, and 
under every one of these forms of belief/ 

In proportion as we show any of these in our 
lives, we do what our Master tells us ; in propor- 
tion as we do not show them, we fail in the 
purpose for which He lived and died for man. 
Often in revivals, and in confessions on death-beds, 
people ask, 'Are you happy?' 'Are you saved?' 
Christ gives us the answer : ' You are happy, you 
are saved, if you seek the happiness, first, or 
modesty ; secondly, of compassion for sorrow ; 
thirdly, of gentleness ; fourthly, of an eager desire 
for justice ; fifthly, of purity and singleness of 
purpose ; sixthly, of kindness to man and beast ; 

H 



98 THE BEATITUDES. serm. x. 

seventhly, of pacific and conciliatory courses ; 
eighthly, of perseverance in spite of difficulty/ 

Again, the form of the ' Beatitudes,' as they are 
called — or, in other words, the declaration of the 
happiness of those who fulfil these things in their 
own lives — is perhaps the best way of leading us to 
practise those things. He does not say, 'Be merci- 
ful/ or ' Be pure in heart ' ; but He says, ' Happy 
are the merciful, happy are the pure in heart ' : 
that is to say, He points out that the happiness of 
which we all of us, rich and poor, are in search, 
can be found in one or other of these Divine 
qualities. 

In this respect the same course was laid down 
by a great teacher of religion who existed among 
the heathen in the world of former times, 1 in words 
which it may perhaps be well for me to read to 
you, both because they are instructive in them- 
selves, and also because they show the same deep 
feeling of desire that man should be happy and 
not miserable, which lay at the bottom of our 
Saviour's heart. 

A disciple of that great teacher of whom I 
sp£ak came to him and said, 'Many angels and 
men have held various things to be blessings when 
1 Buddha. 



serm. x. THE BE A TITUDES. 99 

they were yearning for happiness : do thou declare to 
us the chief blessing.' This great teacher answered 
and said, 'Not to serve the foolish, but to serve the 
wise, to honour the worthy of honour — this is the 
greatest blessing. To dwell in the pleasant land, 
to have former good works to look back upon, 
and right desires in the heart — this is the greatest 
blessing. Much insight and instruction, self-con- 
trol and pleasant speech, and whatever word be 
well spoken — this is the greatest blessing. To sup- 
port father and mother, to cherish wife and child, 
to follow a peaceful calling — this is the greatest 
blessing. To bestow arms and live righteously ; to 
give help to kindred, to do deeds which cannot 
be blamed — these are the greatest blessings. To 
abhor and cease from sin, to abstain from strong 
drink, not to be weary in well-doing — these are the 
greatest blessings. Reverence and lowliness, con- 
tentment and gratitude, the hearing of the law at 
due seasons— these are the greatest blessings. To 
be longsuffering and meek, to associate with those 
who are quiet, and have religious talk at due 
seasons — these are the greatest blessings. Self- 
restraint and purity, the knowledge of noble truths, 
the knowledge of the value of rest — this is the 
greatest blessing. On every side all are invincible 

L. of C.i 



ioo THE BEATITUDES. serm. x. 

who do acts like these ; on every side they walk in 
safety, and theirs is the greatest blessing.' 

I have read these words to you, not in order 
that they may take the place of our Saviour's 
teaching in the eight Beatitudes, far from it ; but 
in order that you may see how, in this method of 
instruction, the great lights our God has sent into 
the world speak, on the whole, in the same voice. 
These are the Beatitudes of millions of our fellow- 
creatures in India. The Beatitudes of Jesus Christ 
are far simpler and nobler, but they both spring 
from the same spirit. 

Fourthly, I have taken this subject of the states 
of mind which our Saviour calls ' blessed ' because 
they furnish to us the great goal or end which 
will solve many difficulties in the great battle of 
life which we all have before us. This day is the 
anniversary of the battle of Waterloo — the greatest 
battle of modern times. It involved the ques- 
tion, Who should be master of the world ? You 
know the object which sustained our soldiers in 
that great conflict. It was for the officers and 
generals the hope of vanquishing the great enemy 
of England ; it was for all the soldiers the great 
object of fulfilling their duty to their country, and 
of obtaining that honour which is the soldier's 



serm. x. THE BEATITUDES. 101 

great reward. These are noble motives, and they, 
no doubt, serve to nerve the heart and will against 
hardships and sufferings and death. We need not 
disparage such motives ; but we are not all soldiers, 
and there are honours even greater than the reward 
of a grateful country. Those qualities of which 
our Saviour spoke are within the reach of all of us, 
and they amply serve to sustain us in all the con- 
flicts of poverty and distress with which many of 
us are encompassed. There are, no doubt, many 
lesser kinds of happiness and virtue. There are, 
no doubt, many successes in life which attend on 
the swaggerers, the self-asserting, the common- 
place, the listeners and retailers of gossip, the 
people who turn about with any evil wind that 
blows. But there is something beyond. In moun- 
tain countries there is, over and above all the lower 
hills, one range, one line of lofty summits which 
conveys a new sense of something quite different ; 
and that is the range of eternal snow. High above 
all the rest we see the white peaks standing out in 
the blue sky, catching the first rays of the rising 
sun, the last rays of the sun as it departs. They 
are not the rounded hills which can be climbed by 
every one. They are not a range of extinct vol- 
canoes, from which all fire has departed ; they are 



102 THE BEATITUDES. serm. x. 

the same always wherever we see them. Such are 
the Beatitudes. High above all earthly ordinary 
virtues, they tower into the heaven itself. They 
are white with the snows of eternity. And when 
the shades of sickness and sorrow gather round us, 
when other common characters become cold and 
dead, then those higher points stand out brighter 
and brighter ; the glow of daylight can be seen 
reflected on their summits when it has vanished 
everywhere beside. 

There are many examples of these different 
virtues. Sometimes in some rare cases we meet 
a man or a woman of whom it might always be 
said that you see all the eight Beatitudes written 
upon their faces. They belong to that circle of 
a very few by whom the whole world is made 
happier and better. But also we may meet with 
each of them separately ; and we may, by dwelling 
on their separate existence, as exemplified by the 
living or the dead, be enabled to see that such 
virtues are possible ; we may find comfort in dwell- 
ing upon them. I shall endeavour to take from 
those who are commemorated in this Abbey some 
one or two persons for each of these Beatitudes, who 
may give us something of a glimpse of what is meant 
by the 'pure in heart/ by the 'merciful/ by the 



serm. x. THE BEATITUDES. 103 

c poor in spirit,' by the ' peacemakers,' by those who 
' hunger and thirst after righteousness,' and those 
who are i persecuted for righteousness' sake.' If I 
can raise your minds to the appreciation of such 
virtues, if I can do this in any way so as to produce 
an impression upon you that we have something 
in life worth striving for, and that this Abbey, 
by its various examples, has something worth 
teaching, I shall not have spoken in vain. 



XI. 

THE BEATITUDES. 

(Saturday Afternoon, June 25, 1881.) 

Blessed are the poor in spirit : for theirs is the kingdom 
of heaven. Blessed are they that mourn : for they shall be 
co??iforted. — Matt. v. 3, 4. 

I propose, in accordance with the plan which I 
laid down last Saturday, to take in order what are 
called the Beatitudes, in which our Saviour selected 
for His approbation the qualities which He most 
cherished. It will not be supposed that these 
qualities are equally found in all persons, or that 
their exemplification will always be equally applic- 
able to Christians in different times of the world. 
The different Beatitudes, as it were, fill up the 
deficiencies which some of them leave ; and they 
must be looked upon rather as describing to us 
points of character that are each in themselves 
good, and which when we see we cannot help 



serm. XI. THE BE A TITUDES. 105 

admiring. It is the admiration of good qualities 
which is the best proof of spirit rising above 
matter. In whatever way these qualities are pro- 
duced in man, whether inherited or acquired, it 
still remains certain that so long as there is a spark 
of enthusiasm enkindled for them in any human 
being, so long is the living proof retained of their 
undying excellence. 

1 Blessed are the poor in spirit.' This, like so 
many of our Saviour's words, is, as it were, a little 
parable in itself. As the poor man is with regard 
to the substance of this world, so is the 'poor 
in spirit ' with regard to the various attractions of 
the soul and spirit. Blessed are the unselfish ; 
happy are those who live for others, and not for 
themselves \ happy are those among us who leave 
a large margin in their existence for the feelings 
which come to us from what is above, and also 
from what is around us. We know what a man 
is when inflated by the sense of his power, his 
wealth, and his intellect \ how he goes about the 
world asserting himself, claiming everything on 
which he can lay his hands as his own. That is 
the man whom we may call purse-proud in spirit, 
rich with the prosperity and the aggressiveness of 
a powerful, wealthy man. The quality which our 



106 THE BEATITUDES. serm. xi. 

Saviour admired was the reverse of this. It is to 
be found among the rich as well as among the 
poor, although, perhaps, poverty more conduces 
to it than riches. There was a story in old times 
told of a severe, cynical philosopher visiting the 
house of one who was as far his superior in genius 
as in modesty. He found the good philosopher 
living in a comfortable house, with easy chairs 
and pleasant pictures round him, and he came in 
with his feet stained with dust and mud, and said, 
as he walked upon the beautiful carpets, 'Thus I 
trample on the pride of Plato.' The good philo- 
sopher paid no attention at the time, but returned 
the visit, and when he saw the ragged furniture and 
the scanty covering of the floor of the house in 
which the other ostentatiously lived, he said, c I 
see the pride of Diogenes through the holes in his 
carpet/ Many a one there is whose pride is thus 
shown by his affecting to be without it ; many a 
one whose poverty, whose modesty in spirit, can 
best be appreciated by seeing how the outward 
comforts and splendour of life can be used by him 
without paying any attention to them. 

There is another way in which this unselfish 
feeling expresses itself — feeling for what is above us. 
'Reverence/ Shakespeare says, 'is the angel of the 



serm. xi. THE BEATITUDES. 107 

world.' It is the angel of the world by smoothing 
and softening, and bringing into their right propor- 
tions, all the jarring elements of the human mind 
and human heart. It is what Burke described as 
produced by the entrance into this Abbey. ' The 
moment we enter into the Abbey/ he said, 'the 
very silence seems sacred ' ; and Wordsworth says : 

Be mine in hours of fear 
Or grovelling thought to seek a refuge here ; 
* * * # 

Where bubbles burst, and folly's dancing foam 
Melts if it cross the threshold. 

Some one has described how a great American 
orator and statesman, Webster, first entered the 
Abbey. He walked in, he looked around him, and 
he burst into tears. That is the acknowledgment 
of something undefined, mysterious, superior to 
ourselves, and superior to all common things, which 
is the root of all religion, and which springs from 
that modesty and humility of spirit which is de- 
scribed in the first Beatitude. 

It is well said that 'theirs is the kingdom of 
heaven.' We do not, perhaps, perceive at once 
the success of those who are thinking of this or of 
higher things ; but, nevertheless, in the long run it 
is sure to be theirs. There is a story told of a Welsh 



io8 THE BEATITUDES. serm. xi. 



chieftain, who, on coming with his followers to 
a river, said, 'He who will be master must first 
make himself a bridge ' ; and he carried them, one 
after another, on his back until they reached the 
opposite shore. That is what we must all do. We 
must make ourselves the slaves of others, doing 
their work, securing their interests ; if we wish to 
be in a high sense their lords and masters, we must 
be, all of us in our way, the servants of the public, 
not by doing their bidding, but by defending their 
interests ; not by listening to their follies, but by 
seeking their good. There are two characters 
whose memory is enshrined in this church, who 
may be chosen out of many as instances of un- 
selfish qualities. One is its first founder, Edward 
the Confessor. There was nothing in him of 
ability or power to commend him ; he had just 
one single merit, that he thought more of the poor 
and the suffering than he did of himself ; and for 
that reason the poor and the suffering for long 
years afterwards remembered him with gratitude ; 
and when the Abbey was rebuilt by Henry III., it 
w r as in commemoration of these unselfish quali- 
ties of the last Saxon king. Another example is 
to be seen, of a very different kind, at the very ex- 
tremity of the nave, where is a monument erected 



serm. xi. THE BEATITUDES. 109 

to a young philosopher, a clergyman, who, in the 
short space ot a life which lasted only twenty-one 
years, made discoveries in science of a most sur- 
prising kind. His name was Jeremiah Horrocks. 
There was one thing which he felt, however, had a 
higher claim upon him even than science. It was 
the doing his duty in the humble sphere in which 
he found himself; and when he was on the eve of 
watching the transit of the planet Venus across the 
sun, and was waiting with the utmost keenness of 
observation for this phenomenon, he put all these 
thoughts aside, and went on the Sunday on which 
this sight was to be observed to perform his 
humble parish duty in the church where he was 
pastor. He mentions it in his journal in words 
which are now written over his monument : 
' Called aside to greater things, which ought not to 
be neglected for the sake of subordinate pursuits.' 
Subordinate, secondary, in one sense, those pur- 
suits could not be, for they were the discovery of 
the glory of God in the greatness of His works ; but 
subordinate, in another sense, they were, for they 
came across, in that instance, the single-minded dis- 
charge of the duty which he owed to his parishioners 
and to his Divine Master. It was a true example 
of what an old poet has called 'high humility.' 



no THE BEATITUDES. serm. xi. 

Whatever you have to do, do it, whatever and how- 
ever great may be things that would take you from it. 
I turn to the next Beatitude, which falls in not 
unnaturally with this. It is ' Blessed are they that 
mourn.' The whole Abbey is indeed filled with the 
shadows of those that mourn. Every funeral, or 
almost every funeral, even the most splendid that 
takes place within these walls, has some sincere and 
heart-rending sorrow involved in the separation of 
death ; always, or almost always, I have observed 
there have been sad faces in the long funeral pro- 
cessions which have accompanied the great and 
famous to their end ; sad faces indifferent to the 
splendour of the scene around them, and lost in 
the thought of the dear friend or father or husband 
or son who had gone down into the dark grave. 
'What,' we ask again and again — 'what is the 
object of these dreadful sorrows? What is the 
gracious purpose which may be intended in these 
repeated strokes of human calamity ? ' It is hard 
to say ; but thus much we may say — that if every 
one were to lift up his mind to the thoughts which 
arise at such moments, he would be in a condition 
far indeed raised above the frets and cares and sins 
of common life. There is in the grief of such 
times a tranquillising, solemnising, elevating wisdom, 



serm. xi. THE BEATITUDES. in 

which transports even the most hardened amongst 
us into a region beyond himself. Any one who 
thinks how greatly he would regret bitter or foolish 
words or acts toward the dead as they lie before 
him, has a constant reminder that such acts and 
words are against the best spirit of a man as he 
actually lives and moves among his fellows. Think 
of what you are in sorrow. That is a true likeness 
of the high thoughts that we ought to have, that we 
may have always. In this sense, therefore, we may 
truly say that in the mourning of which this house 
of God is the constant memorial, there is a true 
source of comfort which never can be effaced. 
Because it is the temple of silence and recon- 
ciliation, it is the temple of God and the home of 
man. One touch of nature, it is said, makes the 
whole world kin ; but it is because one touch of 
nature lifts us up into that higher and nobler state 
in which we are kindred of each other, because 
we then feel that we are kindred also with God. 
All the graves in the Abbey more or less convey 
this lesson. Let me name one, which has nothing 
else to commend it except its suggestive sorrow. 
It is in the Cloisters, where the parents hav^ 
written on a tablet over their little girl, ' Jane 
Lister, dear child, died October 7, 1688/ That 



H2 THE BEATITUDES. serm. xi. 

is all. It was at the time when every one was 
thinking of the stirring events which were lead- 
ing to the revolution of 1688, but these parents 
thought of nothing else than their dear little child ; 
their hearts were not on earth, but in heaven, 
where they hoped that she was. We cannot doubt 
that in so mourning they were comforted. 



XII. 
THE BEATITUDES. 

(Saturday Afternoon, July 2, 1881.) 

Blessed are the meek : for they shall inherit the earth. 
Blessed are they which do hunger and thirst after righteous- 
ness : for they shall be filled. — Matt. v. 5, 6. 

I proceed with my statement of those whom our 
Saviour has called ' happy.' ' Blessed are the meek.' 
Those of you who have followed the changes made 
in the translation by the Revised Version, will have 
observed that these Beatitudes are left entirely un- 
changed ; and this is due to the great solemnity 
which attaches to the words. But in this instance 
the word ' meek ' hardly expresses the quality 
which is meant in the original. It is too passive a 
word ; it does not sufficiently represent the active 
character which is intended. Those of you who 
can understand French will recognise this in the 
French translation : l Bienheureux sont les debon- 

1 



114 THE BEATITUDES. serm. xii. 

naires' ; that is to say, 'Happy are the gracious, 
graceful, Christian characters who, by their cour- 
tesy, win all hearts around them, and smoothe all 
the rough places of the world.' Perhaps ' Blessed 
are the gentle ' w r ould best express it. If w r e give to 
the word ' gentle ' all the meanings that it properly 
implies, it is the opposite of ' vulgar,' 'coarse,' 
' barbarian ' - it is the * delicate,' 'refined,' ' civilised,' 
' chivalrous.' We know its meaning when it is 
mixed up with another w T ord, as in ' gentleman,' or 
'gentleman-like.' 

Our Saviour on one occasion said, c Come unto 
Me ; for I am meek and lowly in heart.' It really 
was, ' For I am gentle ' ; and it is said by an old 
poet of our Saviour that He was 'the first true 
gentleman that ever breathed.' Both the word 
' gentle ' and the word ' gentleman ' rise very high 
above the common acceptation of the term. A 
peasant, an artisan, if he has this gracious quality 
of feeling for others, the courteous eagerness to 
avoid offence, may be as great a gentleman, in 
the true sense of the word, as any duke or any 
prince. 'He was a very perfect, gentle knight,' 
was the description given by Chaucer of a true 
gentleman in his day ; and the words may be 
applied to one of our own time who is buried in 



serm. XII. THE BEATITUDES. 115 



our Abbey — George Grote, the historian of Greece, 
whose urbanity lives in the recollection of all who 
knew him. 

These are the kind of qualities which penetrate 
into every corner, and which may be, therefore, 
truly said to inherit the whole earth. How very 
much may be done by a kind answer at a railway 
station by a railway porter ! How very much 
pleasure, and even happiness, may be given by the 
policeman at the corner of the streets ! How fully 
the duties of life are transformed into graces and 
pleasures by such gentle acts ! 

It has been sometimes said of persons, both in 
high stations and in humbler stations, that, next 
to being Christians, the great thing was that they 
should be gentlemen \ that even if they were not 
called Christians, it was a great comfort to feel 
that one had a gentleman to deal with. And the 
happiness they distribute returns on themselves ; 
for what can be more charming than to be gifted with 
those divine qualities which pass, one hardly knows 
how, into the rough feelings and habits of those 
around us, and diffuse all about us an atmosphere 
of gratitude and contentment — the determination 
not to give or take offence ; the instinct that 
tells us that it is our business to pay attention 

1 2 



n6 THE BEATITUDES. serm. xii. 

especially to the neglected, and not to think only 
of the great ? These are qualities which we may 
well call blessed, which may be found both in man 
and woman ; and an example of it I will choose 
from this Abbey is a lady who lived more than 300 
years ago. Her tomb maybe seen in Henry VII. 's 
Chapel, and it is the most beautiful and venerable 
figure that this church contains. It is Margaret, 
the mother of King Henry VII., who is said, by 
her gracious and gentle manners, to have attracted 
all hearts towards her. ' Every one that knew her ' 
— so it was said in her funeral sermon, — ' every one 
that knew her loved her, and everything that she 
said or she did became her.' She was full of noble 
thoughts for her country ; she counted it to be her 
sacred duty to end the Civil War of the Roses by 
securing the marriage of her son with Elizabeth 01 
York. She founded colleges of learning at Cam- 
bridge; she bequeathed money for the poor 01 
Westminster ; and, as if to show how the gracious 
and beautiful conduct which was so characteristic 
of a lady in the highest walks of life could de- 
scend to the humblest station, she used to say 
that if the Christians w r ould combine against their 
common enemy the Turk, she would undertake 
to go as their washerwoman. She felt, no doubt, 



serm. xii. THE BEATITUDES. 117 

that she could carry the dignity of a lady into that 
humble sphere : and, in like manner, every washer- 
woman or servant in this church might perform 
their duties of laundress and servant with the true 
grace and dignity of a lady. 

The next quality which our Saviour blesses is 
thus expressed : They who 'hunger and thirst after 
righteousness/ He does not say, ' Those who 
have attained righteousness,' but those who have a 
hungering and craving after that which they per- 
haps have not reached, which they perhaps never, 
in this life, may fully attain to, but which to seek 
after is the truest ambition of the children of God. 

When we look out into the world, when we 
see how much there is of falsehood and injustice 
and oppression all around, there is one consoling 
thing ; and that is to see some who are filled with 
an earnest desire to make things better than they 
are. 

There was a band of youthful scholars who met 
many years ago in Germany, and they bound 
each other by a simple resolution that they would 
not die until they had done something to leave the 
world better than they found it. There is such a 
thing, we know, as thirst after knowledge. Every 
one knows what a craving there exists, even 



n8 THE BEATITUDES. serm. xii. 

amongst the humbler classes, for knowledge and 
learning. And the same figure of ' thirst' best 
expresses the ardent feeling of the soul for a 
nobler and purer life than that which we now. 
have. ' Like as the hart ' — like as the stag — 
' desireth water brooks, so longeth my soul after 
Thee, O God.' We may have read how a stag — a 
stricken solitary deer, with the tears streaming down 
its cheeks, panting and heaving with its weary toil 
at the end of its day's long chase — plunges into 
the mountain torrent to bathe its worn-out limbs, 
or revels in the refreshing lake. It is a likeness 
of what, in common life we recognise — the thirst 
of the soldier on his march as he approaches 
the rushing river ; the thirst of the politician, 
after his weary nights and days of toil, for moments 
of repose; the thirst of the labourer and the artisan 
after a long day's work. There is a representation 
in the Catacombs, on one of the Christian tombs, 
of a stag drinking eagerly at the silver stream, 
figuring the first sign of the Christian life. 

This is the true likeness of hungering and 
thirsting after righteousness. When we are toiling 
towards the close of our earthly course, or in any 
especial period of it ; when we feel stifled by the 
sultry and suffocating sense of the hardness and 



serm. xii. THE BEATITUDES. 119 

selfishness of the world about us ; when our breath 
is, as it were, choked by the trifles and forms and 
fashions of the world we live in, or our ears deafened 
by the clattering of the world's vast machinery, we 
may still join the cry, c I thirst for the refreshing 
sight of any pure, upright, generous spirit ; I thirst 
for the day when I may drink freely of God's 
boundless charity ; I thirst for the day when I shall 
hear the " sound of abundance of rain," and see 
a higher heaven than that which now incloses us 
round.' 

Happy are they who, when they see generous 
deeds, and hear of generous characters higher than 
their own, long to be like them. It is our business 
to keep up the chase ; not to cease our efforts to 
quench this thirst ; never to be ' weary in well- 
doing,' and to believe that in this hunger and 
thirst is the spring of all true religion. 

There was once in this country and in this 
church a wild young prince, who selfishly indulged 
in all the enjoyments and passions of youth. By 
his father's death-bed he was brought to a sense of 
better things, and from that moment his soul went 
on constantly aspiring to higher and severer courses 
of duty. It was King Henry V., whose tomb you 
may see behind Edward the Confessor's Chapel. 



120 THE BEATITUDES, serm. xii. 

He especially attended to the complaints of the 
poor, and those who had none to help them. 
Unlike his ancestors and his kindred, he never 
swore any profane oath. He had only two words 
to express the strength of his determination and 
show what his resolution was. When anything was 
proposed to him that was wrong, his one word was 
1 Impossible ? ; when anything in the shape of a 
duty came before him, he had only one word, ' It 
must be done.' During many days his life as a 
soldier was unlike what one would desire ; but he 
almost always had before him the sense of holier 
things ; and when at last his end grew near, his 
dying words were, £ Build thou the walls of Jeru- 
salem ' ; and, as if speaking to the evil spirit that 
had haunted his youth, he cried, 'Thou liest ! thou 
liest ! my heart is for the Lord Jesus Christ.' This, 
in times long ago, was an example how they which 
'hunger and thirst after righteousness' can be 
filled — can be satisfied, at last> with the hope of 
having mastered their evil passions, and attained 
to that conquest over themselves which is more 
glorious than conquest over their enemies. 

There are many others in this church who may 
recall to our minds the same thoughts as we wander 
round it — many who had before them a great and 



serm. xii. THE BEATITUDES. 121 

bright idea of human life, and who did something 
to realise it ; such as those who laboured for the 
abolition of the slave trade, like Granville Sharp, 
Zachary Macaulay, and Wilberforce ; those, also, 
who laboured for the revival of more serious 
thoughts and more just principles of action 
amongst their countrymen, like John and Charles 
Wesley. Let us seek to aspire in some degree 
towards their goodness, and humbly trust that, 
when we wake up from our long sleep, we may 
awake after their likeness and the likeness of the 
God whom they followed, and may be ' satisfied 
with it.' 



xin. 

THE BEATITUDES. 

(Saturday Afternoon, July g, 1881.) 

Blessed are the Merciful : for they shall obtain mercy. 
Blessed are the pure in heart : for they shall see God, — 
Matt. v. 7, 8. 

1 Blessed are the merciful.' This especially illus- 
trates what I said at the beginning of these dis- 
courses, that the object of each of the Beatitudes 
is to bring out the beauty of one particular quality 
without commending the other qualities which may 
exist in the same character with it. We see many 
men of very imperfect morality, and yet in whom 
this quality of mercy is such as to make us feel that, 
if it were universal amongst mankind, the whole 
world would be the happier for it, and that in those 
in whom it is found it is a redeeming virtue in the 
proper sense of the word — a virtue which redeems 
from condemnation and detestation the whole cha- 



serm. xiii. THE BEATITUDES, 123 

racter in which it is found embedded. It is said 
that Lord Brougham made a resolution that he 
would count that day no day on which he had not done 
some one act of kindness towards some one fellow- 
creature. Lord Brougham -was a man of many faults; 
but, if this resolution were sincerely made and sin- 
cerely acted upon, it is wonderful how much good 
it impli-es in the course of his long life. We see the 
same thing by examples where the reverse has been 
the case, where men have so hardened their hearts, 
or had their hearts so hard from the beginning, 
that they are steeled against all approaches to pity 
and compassion. Look at the cases of the betrayal 
of innocent girls to their ruin. Much else may 
be said of these cases ; but one thing is that which 
the prophet urged against David — that he had no 
pity. 

Look, again, at the case of assassinations — 
those assassinations which during the last few 
months have become so formidable. I do not now 
speak of the unsettling of all the bonds of society; 
I speak only of the total want of compassion and 
mercy which they show towards the individuals 
who are the victims of this frenzy. The Emperor 
of Russia l was a man with the same affections and 
1 Alexander II. assassinated March 13, 1881. 



124 THE BEATITUDES. serm. xiii. 

feelings as yourselves, with sons and daughters as 
you have; the President of the United States 2 had 
friends and family, who are dearly attached to him. 
It is said that the assassin did for a moment waver, 
because he felt a passing weakness in the presence 
of the wife whom he was about to deprive of a 
husband. We often say that Emperors, Kings, and 
Presidents are ' the same flesh and blood ' as ourselves, 
meaning that they have the same infirmities and 
the same faults. In all these cases it is for the wel- 
fare and the safety of mankind that the common say- 
ing should have a more extended meaning given to 
it. Yes, it is because these great personages are the 
same flesh and blood as ourselves that they demand 
from us the kindly consideration which we should 
give to our own brothers, sisters, daughters, and 
husbands. Look, again, at the French Revolution 
and the Inquisition, and at the cruelties per- 
petrated in the name of Liberty in the one case and 
of Religion in the other. What was the cause of 
this ? It was simply that the feeling of humanity, 
of mercy, had died out in the hearts of those 
unhappy men who rose to the highest places of 
authority, and that therefore they had no eyes to 

2 President Garfield, shot by an assassin, July 2, died 
September 19, 1881. 



serm. xiii THE BEATITUDES, 125 

see and no ears to hear the tears and misery that 
they produced. 

But let us take a wider sphere of compassion, 
which is due not only to human beings, but to 
all living creatures, whether of our own or of the 
animal creation. Martin of Galway ! see what an 
immense circle of happiness he has diffused by 
reason of the Acts for restraining cruelty to animals 
which he carried through Parliament amidst ob- 
loquy of every kind, in defiance of the press, in 
defiance of popular opinion. How many a wearied 
horse, and jaded ox, and suffering dog, if they had 
voices to speak, would bless the name of Martin 
for the long-continued blessings which he has 
showered upon them ! It is surely not too much 
to ask that this mercy or compassion to dumb 
animals should be made part of the very religion of 
childhood, that children may grow up to manhood 
with something of the same horror of cruelty to 
beasts and birds that they would feel with regard to 
each other. 

There are two persons connected with this 
church whom I will specially name as examples 
of the virtue of mercy, even when surrounded 
by many qualities which we cannot admire or 
approve. One was the statesman, Charles James 



126 THE BEATITUDES. SERM. xiii. 



Fox, whose monument you see in the nave of this 
Abbey. At his feet there kneels a negro, with 
clasped hands, and with the strongly marked 
physiognomy of his race, seeming to plead for 
the generous-minded benefactor, in whose heart, 
immersed as it was in public affairs and in private 
pleasures, the wrongs of those whom he had never 
seen awakened a spark of deep compassion and of 
just indignation, which causes him to be remem- 
bered in that noble band whom I mentioned last 
Saturday as hungering and thirsting after righteous- 
ness, but who was himself drawn towards that holy 
fellowship solely by this feeling of mercy and com- 
passion. The other is Charles Dickens. There 
are many charges that might be brought against 
his style, and perhaps against his behaviour ; but 
there was one quality which attracted to his grave 
the honour and the tears of English men and Eng- 
lish women of all classes, especially the poor — it 
was that he had a tender heart for their sufferings, 
that he had that insight, which, perhaps, he was 
the first to display, into the squalor and temptations 
and wretchedness of their position, which won him 
an everlasting name among the benefactors of the 
humbler classes. Truly is it said that the merciful 
shall obtain mercy. We cannot believe that the 



serm. xiii. THE BEATITUDES. 127 



generous and merciful acts of such men as these 
can ever be lost in the sight of God by reason of the 
other faults with which they are surrounded. It is 
the very quality on which our Saviour's blessing has 
been most distinctly pronounced. 'Forgive,' He 
says, ' and ye shall be forgiven.' ' Give, and it shall 
be given unto you.' And the feeling of posterity 
and the feeling of contemporaries is, after all, some 
slight index of what we may call in this respect the 
final judgment of God. 

' Blessed are the pure in heart/ This is the 
next Beatitude, but one altogether different from 
that of which we have just been speaking. The 
one quality is found sometimes not coupled 
with the other ; nevertheless, in this case also 
we feel that our Saviour's blessing has gone 
straight to the point. The words may bear a two- 
fold meaning — pure, disinterested love of truth, 
and pure and clean aversion to everything that 
defiles. Pure love of truth ! How very rare, yet 
how very beneficent ! We do not see its merits 
at once ; we do not perceive, perhaps even in the 
next generation, how widely happiness is increased 
in the world by the discoveries of men of science 
who pursued them simply and solely because they 
were attracted towards them by a single-minded 



128 THE BEATITUDES. serm. xiii. 

love of what was true. Look at Sir Isaac Newton, 
the most famous grave which this church contains. 
It was said by those who knew him that he had 
the whitest soul they had ever known — the whitest 
soul, perhaps, in other points also, but the whitest 
especially in this, that no consideration ever came 
across his desire of ascertaining and propounding 
the exact truth on whatever subject he was engaged. 
Corrupt elections, corrupt motives, are the very 
reverse of this Beatitude. Open your eyes ! Take 
the mask off your faces ! 

Again, purity from all that defiles or stains the 
soul. Filthy thoughts, filthy actions, filthy words 
— we know what they are without attempting to 
describe them. How can the mind best be kept 
free from their intrusion? How is society best 
guarded from their corrupting influence ? Let us 
take three examples from those who are buried or 
who have monuments in this church. Milton has 
not only told us that he was from his earliest youth 
entirely free from such defilements, but he imprinted 
it in such a manner in the words of his poems 
that no one can read those poems and admire 
them without feeling as if he had passed into a keen 
and frosty atmosphere, where all low and debasing 
thoughts vanish away. Look at his description 



serm. xiii. THE BEATITUDES. 129 

of chastity in ' Comus ' ; look at his description of 
the purity of married life in ' Paradise Lost/ Are 
they not as a sword and shield with which we may 
defend ourselves against all the fiery darts of temp- 
tation ? Addison, again, lived at a time when the 
profligacy which broke over England in the reac- 
tion against the too great severity of the Puritans 
overran and undermined all literature and all mo- 
rality. Addison furnished a literature in which there 
was at once everything to please, and nothing to 
give countenance to those gross and dark images 
which had haunted the imagination of his contem- 
poraries. It shows what can be done by one man 
in this respect, that Macaulay, who lies beside his 
statue, and who has written an essay to commemor- 
ate the benefactions which Addison bestowed upon 
England, has given foremost place to this, that 
Addison effected a great social reform, and recon- 
ciled wit and virtue after a long and disastrous 
separation, in which wit had been led astray by pro- 
fligacy, and virtue by fanaticism. Wordsworth has 
the glory of having not only abstained from anything 
which can injure or defile the soul, but of fixing 
the mind upon those simple affections and upon 
those great natural objects of beauty and grandeur 
which are the best preservatives against any such 

K 



130 THE BEATITUDES. serm. xiii. 

attempts to corrupt and stain our existence. We 
sometimes hear it said that these dark and fleshly 
ideas are necessary accompaniments of genius or of 
poetry. Not so. In the case of Shakespeare, and 
even more remarkably in the case of Byron, what 
they have written that is low and filthy is not poetry, 
is not that which commends them for ever to the 
gratitude of their contemporaries and countrymen. 
It is in proportion as they are pure, in proportion 
as they are clean, in proportion as they are elevated 
above anything like such corrupt thoughts, that 
they become our guides and our delight. 

And what is the reason that our Saviour gives 
for this blessedness of the c pure in heart ' ? It is 
that ' they shall see God.' What is the meaning of 
this ? It is that of all the obstacles which may 
intervene between us and an insight into the 
nature of the invisible and the Divine, nothing 
presents so coarse and so thick a veil as on the 
one hand a false, artificial, crooked way of looking 
at truth, and on the other hand the indulgence of 
brutal and impure passions ; and nothing can so 
clear up our better thoughts, nothing leaves our 
minds so open to receive the impression of what is 
good and noble, as the single eye and the pure con- 
science ; which we may not, perhaps, be able to 



serm. xiii. THE BEATITUDES. 131 

reach of ourselves, but which are an indispensable 
condition of having the doors of our minds open, 
and the channel of communication kept free be- 
tween us and the supreme and eternal fountain ot 
all purity and of all goodness. 

[This was Dean Stanley's last Sermon. It was 
preached on July 9, 1881, and he died on the 18th 
of the same month.] 



XIV. 

THE FAITHFUL SERVANT. 

(Preached at Alderley, on February 10, 1856, on the death 
of Sarah Burgess, for thirty-eight years the devoted and 
beloved servant of the family of the Rev. Edward 
Stanley. ) 

Well do7te, good and faithful servant ; thou hast been 
faithful over a few things ; I will make thee ruler over many 
things : enter thou into the joy of thy Lord, — Matt. xxv. 23. 

The Parable from which these words are taken is 
one of the most important in the whole Bible. It 
describes mankind not only according to the general 
division of the good and bad ; but according to 
those many varieties and divisions of character, 
pursuits, opportunities, which we actually see with 
our eyes in this world. ' The kingdom of Heaven 
is as a man travelling into a far country, who 
called his own servants and delivered unto them 
his goods ; and unto one he gave five talents, to 



serm. xiv. THE FAITHFUL SERVANT 133 

another two, and to another one, to every man 
according to his several ability? l Look round any 
congregation, any circle of our acquaintance, any 
family, this is exactly what we see ; no two 
persons have the same gifts, or the same advan- 
tages ; one has five talents, another has two, 
another has one. Scripture and experience speak 
here the same language ; every one will feel that 
thus far he is sure from his own knowledge that 
what the Parable says is true. And to every one 
it has its lesson to give as it proceeds. Many 
passages of Scripture are intended to alarm the 
very wicked, or to console the very good ; but 
this Parable is intended for by far the larger class, 
who are neither very good nor very wicked ; whose 
sin consists not in doing what is wrong, but in 
neglecting to do all the good they might do with 
the gifts entrusted to them. Our Master is gone 
away into a far country. He has left His goods 
with us, to use or to neglect. He will not help us 
unless we help ourselves. It is no excuse to say 
that our opportunities were small, that we had 
but one talent, and that therefore we ' hid it in the 
earth ' : this was the very reason why we should 
have made the most of it, why we should have 
1 Matt. xxv. 14, 15. 



134 THE FAITHFUL SERVANT, serm. xiv. 

'put it out to the exchangers,' so that when our 
Lord comes again ' He may receive his own with 
usury.' 2 As the Parable thus contains a warning 
to the unfaithful servants, so it contains an en- 
couragement to all those faithful servants, be they 
high or low, who have traded with their talents, 
few or many, great or small. It reminds us that 
talents, used well and faithfully, bring with them, 
both in this world and in the next, their own great 
reward \ that in the great toil and struggle of life 
the race is not to the swift nor the battle to the 
strong, but to those who out of little have made 
much, who out of weakness have perfected strength ; 
who having been faithful over ' few things ' have 
been made and will be made 'rulers over many 
things.' 

This great truth, like all the truths and doctrines 
of Scripture, is best understood by example ; by 
the knowledge of our own hearts, or by the know- 
ledge of one with whose character and end we 
have been ourselves acquainted. Such an one we 
have known in her whose remains we last week 
committed to the grave ; whose name, whose life, 
whose voice and countenance have been long 
familiar to almost all in this place ; who was a 
2 Matt. xxv. 27, 28. 



serm. xiv. THE FAITHFUL SERVANT. 135 

constant testimony to the truth of these words of 
our Saviour. 

Let us consider what we may all of us learn 
from a character and a life which was not granted 
to us for nothing. It was itself one of God's gifts 
for our use. Let us see how we can still keep it 
amongst us, how we can still ' put it out to the 
exchangers } : let us not ' hide it ' in the grave 
which was ' digged in the earth ' 3 to receive that 
which was 'of the earth, earthy,' but let us treasure 
up the memory of that part which was c heavenly,' 
that, though we 'have borne the image of the 
earthy ' to her last home, we may ' bear ' with us 
'the image of the heavenly,' till we also meet 'the 
Lord from Heaven.' 4 

What, then, was the talent which was com- 
mitted to her keeping? All who ever knew her 
will feel that in her was lost a true servant, a true 
friend, a true sister, a true mother ; to many here, 
as to many elsewhere, she was the best likeness of 
Heaven, and heavenly things, that they had ever 
known. What was it that she thus faithfully used? 
and how did she use it? 

Was it wealth, or station, or fame? No. She 
was born and bred in the humble rank of so many 
3 Matt. xxv. 18. 4 1 Cor. xv. 47, 48, 49. 



136 THE FAITHFUL SERVANT, serm. xiv. 

amongst us. No books tell of what she did ; no 
great means of guiding, or ruling, or helping others 
were granted to her : she died, as she had lived, 
' not ministered unto, but ministering. ' Or was it 
strength and health, such as enables many of us 
to bear much, and do much, ' rising up early and 
late taking rest, eating the bread of carefulness,' 
1 going forth to work and to labour till the even- 
ing'? No. You know well that these were not 
granted her \ you remember well her fragile form, 
her wasted features, faint and weary with the 
journey of life before her years were half numbered ; 
like a withered leaf, that a breath of wind might 
blow away in a moment. This was what she was 
outwardly. 'The flesh indeed was weak' and frail; 
but the 'spirit was willing' 5 and ready. It was 
this readiness and quickness of spirit which God 
had given to her, which, carefully trained by 
others, carefully trained by herself, carefully trained 
by God's grace, rose above all weakness and in- 
firmity of body ; rose above all humbleness and 
lowliness of station ; rose above all selfishness of 
the flesh and of the spirit ; and has risen, we may 
humbly trust, above the power of death and the 
grave. 

5 Matt. xxvi. 41. 



serm. xiv. THE FAITHFUL SERVANT. 137 

Let us see, piece by piece, through her life, 
how this was carried out. Let me especially 
commend her example to the young amongst 
us. Such as they are now, such she was once. 
Let them think, as they hear me describe what 
she was, how they may at last be as we trust she 
is now. And first, in her earliest years, in the 
school of this parish, she laid the beginning 
of that ready quickness of which I have spoken. 
What she learned she learned well : what she 
did she did with her whole soul. There are 
those who can remember her as she sat working 
at her humble task, with that fixed attention 
which alone makes work good and sure. Here 
she first took in that interest in things around her, 
in things above her, which she never afterwards 
lost : here she first learned to know and value 
those whom afterwards it was the happiness of her 
life to serve, living or dying : here she first laid in 
that store of knowledge of hymns and sacred texts 
and chapters, which she never forgot in after times. 
Long, long afterwards, far away from this place, in 
years and months of illness, in the long nights when 
she would lie awake from pain and restlessness 
during her last sickness, she would find rest and 
comfort in repeating to herself the hymns and 



138 THE FAITHFUL SERVANT, serm. xiv. 

. — . — — « 

passages 6 from Scripture which she had learned 
in Alderley School. Consider this, my younger 
hearers, you who think it time lost to lay up in 
your memory what you will never again have the 
opportunity of gaining, remember that, here or at 
your homes, you have, now or never, the chance of 
receiving what will come back to you with usury in 
after years ; that your solitary hours, your bed of 
sickness, will be cheered or darkened according as 
you have made the most of the one talent, small 
though it be, which God gives you in the school of 
your childhood. 

From school she passed, as so many of you will 
pass or have passed, into service. For a short time 
she was in the service of your present venerable 
Minister. Then she passed into the family which 
for the remaining thirty-eight years of her life she 
never left. All that she was in that family it is not 
possible, it is not necessary for me fully to speak. 
How she was one with them in their joys and their 
sorrows, how every change of place and station 

6 It may be mentioned that amongst the passages thus 
learned, in which she took special delight, were the Sermon 
on the Mount, in the 5th, 6th, and 7th chapters of St. 
Matthew's Gospel; the 12th, 13th, and 14th chapters of 
the Epistle to the Romans ; and the 3rd and 4th chapters of 
the Epistle to St. James. 



serm. xiv. THE FAITHFUL SERVANT. 139 

was shared by her with them, you know almost as 
well as I do. You know how, through her, every 
intelligence which could affect us was felt by your- 
selves ; how in her happiness or joy was reflected 
every good or evil fortune which befell every 
member of the family, far or near, old or young. 
But you can hardly tell how great is the blessing 
which such a union between master and servant 
sheds around on all who come within its influence. 
To know that in the midst of that household there 
sat one who, through all the changes and chances 
of life, thought far more of the interests and com- 
fort and welfare of those whom she served than of 
her own ; who never thought of what she wished 
or liked, but only of what they wished or liked ; 
w T ho in all sickness and distress, in all difficulty 
and prosperity, in all time of our tribulation, and 
in all time of our wealth, was ever ready with a 
bright smile, with a kind look, with a wise word, 
with a gentle touch, with a quick eye, to calm, to 
cheer, to assuage, to counsel ; this was indeed a 
light shining in the darkness of this evil world. It 
was an example to those who served with her to 
see in her what they ought to be — not the servants 
only, but, 'as in the sight of the Lord,' the guardians, 
the friends, the support and stay of the interests of 



140 THE FAITHFUL SERVANT, serm. xiv. 



those whose interests could not be divided from 
their own. It was a never-failing source of refresh- 
ment and consolation to those whom she served, 
that whatever else changed in the world around, 
or within their circle, she was there, unchanging 
and unchangeable. When the heavens were dark 
around, and when troubles came thick and fast, or 
when the ' faithful seemed to fail from among the 
children of men,' one true heart was there, to prove 
that there is a constancy and a peace which the 
world has not given, and which the world cannot 
take away. It was a living parable to all, to remind 
us that what she was to her earthly master we all 
ought to be and may be to our heavenly Master. 
' Behold, even as the eyes of servants look unto 
the hand of their masters, and as the eyes of a 
maiden unto the hand of her mistress/ This first 
part of the verse was the exact likeness of her con- 
stant life ; would that we could all learn the con- 
clusion that the Psalmist draws from it — ' Even so 
our eyes wait upon the Lord our God until He 
have mercy upon us.' 7 In her the two services 
were united. Through her earthly service she 
wrought out her heavenly service also : but how 
forcibly does such an example bring before us what 
7 Psalm cxxiii. 2. 



serm. xiv. THE FAITHFUL SERVANT 141 

our relation should be to our heavenly Father, oi 
whom ' every family in heaven and earth is named,' 8 
making His will our will, His love our love, His 
joy our joy. Bear this in mind, all masters of 
households, who have known this or any like ex- 
ample of fidelity to your interests, ' knowing that 
ye also have a Master in Heaven.' 9 Bear this in 
mind all ye that are or will be servants, ' in single- 
ness of heart as unto Christ ' \ ' not with eye-service 
as men-pleasers, but as servants of Christ doing the 
will of God from the heart : ivith good will doing 
service as to the Lord and not to men ; knowing 
that whatever good thing any man doeth, the same 
shall he receive of the Lord.' l Do not despise it, 
do not think it beneath you. The service of men, 
as the apostle thus tells you, may indeed be in the 
fullest sense the service of Christ : from your ex- 
ample lessons may be taught which would never 
be taught by anything else ; from your faithfulness 
in a few things, those who in this world are rulers 
over many things may often learn lessons of 
humility, of faith, of love, which in their own sta- 
tions they might else never have learned at all. 
But there was yet another field in which ' our 

8 Eph. iii. 15. 9 Col. iv. 1. 

' Eph. vi. 5, 6, 7, 8. 



142 THE FAITHFUL SERVANT, serm. xiv. 

dear sister here departed ' used to the uttermost all 
the talents that were committed to her. c Our dear 
sister here departed? How touchingly, how power- 
fully, must those words have come to the hearts of 
those mourners, who stood round the grave last 
week ! ' Sister,' indeed, in no common sense, 
sister by all the ties of earthly relationship, sister 
by all the ties of Christian brotherhood, in all 
sisterly and family affections ; never ceasing to re- 
member the place of her nativity, the home of her 
childhood, the friends of her youth, the father and 
mother who trained her in the way that she should 
go, the brothers and sisters whom she had faithfully 
loved, the brothers' children and the sisters' children, 
to whom she became, as it were, a second mother, 
as they grew up round about her. Others, often, 
become faithful servants in distant households ; and 
by degrees their early haunts know them no more ; 
lapse of years and change of place, without any 
fault of theirs, loosens, and dissolves the bond of 
ancient natural affection. Not so, my brethren, 
not so with her, whom you, as well as we, have now 
lost. Dear as were to her the interests of the family 
which she served, no less dear were the interests of 
the family from which she was born. She did not, 
as many do, make one duty the excuse for neglect- 



serm. xiv. THE FAITHFUL SERVANT. 143 

ing another duty; she fulfilled them both. The 
school, the church, the cottages of her native parish 
were always present with her ; she never lost her 
old simple habits . she always delighted to return 
amongst you : she wrote to her absent family, often 
twice or thrice a week, what they wished or what 
they needed to hear : she always loved to talk of 
her early days, of her home beside the wood, of 
her prizes at school, of her kinsfolk and acquaint- 
ance. Long and tenderly she ministered to her 
aged mother : only a few days before her end, she 
spoke to me at length of her father's goodness and 
simple piety, of his daily prayers before he went 
to his work, of his reading of the Bible by his fire- 
side, of a rebuke which he had given to her for a 
hasty expression in her childhood, by which she 
had never ceased to profit. When she came down 
amongst you, you know how she would gather the 
rising generation of her family around her : how 
she would give to her little nephews and nieces, as 
they stood beside her, words of wise counsel for 
this world and for the next ; how she watched over 
their welfare ; how she guarded and guided them 
onwards and forwards and upwards. You also 
know how deeply she had set her heart on laying 
her last remains amongst her own people, in the 



144 THE FAITHFUL SERVANT, serm. xiv. 

grave of her father and her mother. Long ago she 
had made those near her promise that whenever 
and wherever her last hour found her, she should 
be laid nowhere but here. And when at last it did 
approach with certainty, then her longing for her 
native place grew stronger ; the recollection of the 
churchyard seemed to draw her homewards ; and 
home at last she has been brought ; her mortal 
remains to her home here on earth, her spirit to 
that home where the weary are at rest for ever. 

It is not without cause that I speak of that 
strong family affection. It reminds you that she 
was truly your own, that whatever good she had 
was hewn out of the same rock, cast in the same 
mould as yourselves ; what she was you may be ; 
what she longed that you, her younger kinsfolk, 
might be, that, remembering her wishes, you ought 
to become, and, with God's grace, you may become 
hereafter. It reminds you also of the value of 
these affections : honour them, cherish them ; they 
are not enough in themselves to guide us to Heaven, 
but they are the beginning of all heavenly and holy 
thoughts. The very desire which she expressed so 
strongly to be laid amongst you, is that same ancient 
feeling of which you read in the patriarchs and 
saints of old, who, when dying in strange lands, 



serm. xiv. THE FAITHFUL SERVANT 145 

charged that their bones should be taken and 
buried with their fathers in the cave of Machpelah, 
in the land of promise : 2 so that even in death 
their union should not be broken. So may it long 
be with you : so may this place, this church, this 
churchyard, always draw you to each other, to 
those who have gone before us, and to God in 
Jesus Christ. . . . 

It was only a short time before her end, that 
I asked her one day what was her favourite text 
in the Bible. Without a moment's hesitation she 
answered, and dwelt on every word as she repeated 
it : ' Come unto me, all ye that labour and are 
heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take My 
yoke upon you, and learn of Me ; for I am meek 
and lowly in heart ; and ye shall find rest unto 
your souls. For My yoke is easy and My burden 
is light.' We have long known the text ; we read 
it often ; we hear it often ; whenever the sacrament 
of the Lord's Supper is administered we hear it : 
it needs no human recollections to add anything to 
the sweet music of its sounds, or to the abiding 
strength of its consolations. Yet even divine words 
like these may be brought nearer home to every 
one of us, if we have seen their comfort and theii 
2 Gen. xlix. 29, 30 ; 1. 25. 

L 



146 THE FAITHFUL SERVANT serm. xiv. 

truth exemplified in any one whom we ourselves 
have known. 

Ponder well the words ; and how naturally do 
they recall the image of her whose stay and support 
they had become. 'All ye that labour and are 
heavy laden/ How exactly does this describe her 
outward form and manner of life ! Think of her 
failing strength, her frequent pains, her slow step, 
vainly striving to keep pace with her active spirit ; 
think, especially as years advanced, of the toil and 
difficulty with which she dragged along her weary 
limbs, heavy laden with ever-increasing infirmity ; 
think of the brave struggle with which, under all 
this burden, she yet laboured and travailed to the 
last. Yet this life, so full as it might have seemed 
of pain and misery, was a life of true and constant 
happiness. Think of her once more : and you will 
see that she had indeed come to Him who said l I 
will give you rest/ i I will refresh you.' Think 
of that patient, contented, ever-orightening smile ; 
think of those kind, cheering, happy words, always 
ready for those who came in and went out amongst 
us ; recall her as she passed to and fro amongst her 
kindred here, always bent on doing some little 
act of thoughtful goodness, never forgetting, never 
omitting any : recall her as she sat silent and com- 



serm. xiv. THE FAITHFUL SERVANT 147 

posed in her chair, plying her daily task or turning 
over the leaves of her little hymn-book or prayer- 
book ; remember the calm resignation with which, 
without fear, without excitement, she was ever ex- 
pecting her latter end ; ever thankful for the mercies 
she had enjoyed through life, ever filled with the 
thought that the daily words of parting for her 
evening rest might be for the last time ; and you 
will indeed see that hers was the happiness and 
peace of one who had found 'rest to her sour 
where only it can be found. 

And how she had sought and found it ? Still 
the words of her text guide us. She had ; taken 
His yoke upon her,' she had learned of Him who 
was ' meek and lowly of heart.' Humbly, faithfully, 
lovingly, — in childhood, in youth, in age,— in all the 
intercourse of life, she had striven to take upon her 
the yoke of His words, of His commandments, of 
His will. Steadily, firmly, she strove to be guided 
in all things, not by her own pleasure, not by her 
convenience, not by her feelings, but by a fixed 
sense of duty, of truth, of justice, of honest and 
loving obedience ; as ever in the presence of Him 
who is c without variableness or shadow of turning/ 
in the service of Him who, as she delighted to 
remember, was ' Jesus Christ, the same yesterday, 

L 2 



i 4 8 THE FAITHFUL SERVANT, serm. xiv. 

and to day, and for ever.' 3 And this she did, labour- 
ing to be like Him in all ' meekness and lowliness 
of heart/ Loved, honoured, esteemed as she was by 
all around her, she never rose above her station ; 
she never joined together things that were incon- 
gruous or unsuitable ; she never grasped at power, 
or wealth, or consideration for herself; she bore 
always the same simple, humble heart, that she 
brought with her from her early childhood. By 
her lowliness only she was exalted ; by her meek- 
ness only she ' inherited the earth.' 4 

And of her most truly it may be said, that c His 
yoke was easy, and His burden was light.' You 
who are young, you who are in full enjoyment of 
health and life, and spirits, you who think that a 
serious and religious life must be mournful and 
difficult, that the Lord whom you are called upon 
to serve is an ' austere and hard Master, reaping 
where he has not sown, and gathering where he has 
not strawed ' ; 5 look at what you know, remember 
what you have heard, of her who is gone from us. 
There was indeed much to make her life sad ; 
much, as I have said, of pain and suffering ; much 
of sorrow and mourning for the loss of those she 

3 Heb. xii. 8. This was also a favourite text of hers. 

4 Matt. v. 5. 5 Matt. xxv. 24 ; Luke xix. 21. 



serm. xiv. THE FAITHFUL SERVANT. 149 

dearly loved ; for the parting from scenes and 
places where she had struck deep root ; much of 
anxious care that her duty might be fully performed. 
But every one who knew her will say, as she herself 
often said, that her life had been full of happiness.. 
No innocent enjoyment passed within her reach, 
but that it lighted up her face with a cheerful 
gleam ; no means of adding to the comfort and 
pleasure of others was ever neglected by her ; to 
smooth down family trouble, to promote every- 
where agreement and good-will, and brotherly and 
sisterly affection, was her constant aim. And the 
pleasure she gave to others was reflected back on 
herself. They, who live for others and not for 
themselves, are always rewarded by this very thing ; 
even if they have no joy themselves, they rejoice 
in the joy of others ; the health of others, the 
prosperity of others, the peace of others, becomes 
to them as it were in the place of their own health, 
covers their own adversity, enlightens their own 
obscurity ; like the apostle, of whom we have read 
in this day's service ; 6 ' as unknown, and yet well 
known ; as sorrowful, yet alway rejoicing ; as poor, 
yet making many rich ; as having nothing, yet 
possessing all things.' But more than this, there 
6 2 Cor. vi. 9, 10. 



150 THE FAITHFUL SERVANT serm. xiv. 

was the joy within ; c the peace ' of those 'whose 
mind is stayed on God.' It is the special blessing 
of the yoke of Christ, not only that it is easy, but 
that it makes all other things easy ; it is the special 
blessing of the burden of Christ that it is not only 
light itself, but that it makes all other things light. 
So it was with her. Because she had taken upon 
her the yoke of Christ, therefore the yoke of service, 
which some find heavy and grating and painful, 
was to her easy and delightful ; because she had 
taken upon her the burden of Christ, therefore the 
burden of care and the burden of sickness and 
suffering, became but as ' a light affliction, which 
was but for a moment, working for her a far more 
exceeding and eternal weight of glory.' 7 All around 
partook of the heaven which was within : there was 
no struggle against itself, for self was swallowed up 
in faith and love. 

In the 35th 8 chapter of the Book of Genesis 
you may read a touching scene in the story of the 
Patriarch Jacob, which bears witness how from the 
earliest times all respect has been paid to such long 
and honourable service as that of which we are 
speaking. He had been a far wanderer in a strange 
country : he had seen many changes of good and 
7 2 Cor. iv. 17. 8 Verses 6, 7, 8. 



serm. xiv. THE FAITHFUL SERVANT. 151 

evil fortune, many forms of human character ; he 
had come back to his native land ; with his staff he 
had crossed over the Jordan many years before, 
and now he had become two mighty bands : and 
he came to Bethel in the land of Canaan, 'the 
place where God appeared to him when he fled 
from the face of his brother.' There he halted, in 
the middle stage of his journey ; in the middle 
stage of the years of his pilgrimage through life ; 
and there, we are told, ' Deborah, Rebekah's nurse,' 
the nurse that had come with his mother from her 
own people years before, - she died and she was 
buried beneath Bethel, under an oak, and the name 
of it was called Allon Bachuth, that is, the oak of 
weeping.' Many griefs had befallen him in times 
past — many griefs were yet to befall him in times 
to come. But this grief was not to be forgotten. 
Under the old gray stones which had been set up 
in Bethel, the ' house of God,' where he first awoke 
to a consciousness of the presence of his Lord 
and Maker \ under the shade of the aged oak-tree 
which from generation to generation had spread 
and would still spread its branches over the con- 
secrated spot, the faithful servant of his father's 
house was laid ; and the memory of the spot was 
long preserved, and under the oak of Deborah, 



152 THE FAITHFUL SERVANT serm. xiv. 

beside the house of God, in many a distant time, 
the wayfarer would often rest, and remember the 
name of her whose remains reposed beneath. 9 
Even so, my brethren, long may that spot be known 
and remembered where the faithful friend and 
servant of many years has been laid beside the 
well-known tree, under the ancient tower, in that 
quiet and secluded corner, which she knew and 
loved so well, in the grave of her parents and her 
kindred. 

But let us think not only of the earthly grave 
and its earthly sorrows ; let us think of all which 
that grave is intended to teach us ; what thoughts 
not only of sorrow, but of joy and comfort and 
heavenly hope we may carry away with us, when- 
ever we pass by it, or whenever we think of her 
who there sleeps her last sleep. It was indeed 
when we stood beside it last week, what Jacob 
called the grave of Deborah — ' the oak of weeping ' 
— £ the oak of tears/ But it may also be to those 
who view it rightly, 'the oak of gladness/ c the gate 
of Heaven ' \ — the entrance into that joy which 
shall never pass away. 

It costs us all a pang when standing at the open 
grave which is to receive the last remains of any 
9 I Sam. x. 3 ; i Kings xiii. 14. 



serm. xiv. THE FAITHFUL SERVANT. 153 

near and dear to us, to c give our hearty thanks to 
God for their deliverance from the miseries of this 
sinful world.' Yet when we consider in any case — 
when we consider in her case — what those miseries 
are from which she is now for ever set free, we shall 
be able to feel that the loss we so deplore is yet a 
cause of thanksgiving. Think what she has been 
spared ; think of her * deliverance from the burden? 
as it was fast becoming, the burden of the weak and 
suffering flesh : think of the successive pangs which 
would have entered like iron into that loving and 
devoted soul, had she lived, as in the ordinary 
course of human things she might have lived, to 
see one by one the departure of those whom she 
so loved and served on earth. Think also of the 
deliverance, for which she, if she could but speak, 
would give the deepest thanksgiving of all ; the 
deliverance from all those little infirmities, trials, 
temptations, with which even the best and most 
saint-like of us are compassed about in this morta. 
life. It is the peculiar trial of characters like hers, 
that they cannot bear to see anything done by 
others which they can by any possibility do them- 
selves. In some this may arise from other causes 
— from love of power, from jealousy, from mistrust. 
In her this infirmity, so to call it, was occasioned 



154 THE FAITHFUL SERVANT, serm. xiv 

not by reasons of this kind, but by the exactness, 
the nicety, the eagerness, of her desire to see all 
done in the best way in which she thought it could 
be done ; from her great unwillingness, also, ever 
to take from others that service and that trouble, 
which she thought it to be her station and duty 
always to be rendering, never to be receiving. She 
knew well that she had this trial ; and she spoke 
with humble hope that He who is perfectly just, 
and who knew whereof she was made, would judge 
and receive her, according to that ' faithfulness and 
truth/ in which she put her entire trust. But from 
this and all like trials, from this craving, never 
satisfied, after perfection on earth, we may feel sure 
that she is especially delivered in that world to 
which she has gone. There they ' who hunger and 
thirst after righteousness ' are blessed, for there 
their longings shall at last be filled. There she 
will no more vex her righteous soul with, the sight 
of good which she cannot accomplish^ and of evil 
which she cannot prevent. There she will no more 
be fretted by the thought of ministrations imper- 
fectly rendered, by the sight of good designs half 
finished. In that better world there is no pavement 
strewed with good intentions unfulfilled ; in that 
world there will be no let or hindrance to the full 



serm. xiv. THE FAITHFUL SERVANT. 155 

service always given with all the energy of that 
love, which, as the apostle tells us, c never fails ' l — 
1 for the throne of God and of the Lamb shall be in 
it ; and His servants shall serve Him .' 2 Yes, my 
brethren, dim and distant, and 'seen through a 
glass darkly,' are all our notions of another world. 
Yet, if anything be certain respecting it, this is 
certain, that according to our faithfulness in a few 
things here, will be our rule over many things there. 
Her last words, uttered as if with a consciousness 
that her end was at hand, as she retired to rest on 
her last night, were, ' My work is done. 1 Done it 
was, ' well done ' on earth ; but not done, rather 
still to be continued, and begun afresh, in the 
eternal state beyond. 

In this world, our faculties, our gifts, our talents, 
are limited by outward circumstance, by humble 
station, by small fields of duty. Many who have 
acquired a great name in history have gained it not 
because they were better or wiser than others, but 
only because they had here greater and wider op- 
portunities. Not so in the world to come. There 
the spirits of all will find their appointed services. 
Our heavenly home has room and verge enough 
for all the energy which in this narrow spot of earth 
1 1 Cor. xiii. 8. 2 Rev. xxii. 



156 THE FAITHFUL SERVANT, serm. xiv. 

has been cramped and shackled down. In our 
Father's house are many mansions ; 3 and in one 
or more of those many mansions the ever-increas- 
ing l number of His elect ' will, in ways which eye 
hath not seen nor ear heard, fulfil their Father's 
will. Then will be seen that union of rest and 
labour, of repose and active energy, in this world 
vainly though earnestly sought by all the true 
disciples of Him to whom rest and work are one. 
Both will then be possible ; of both, we have the 
promise in those strains, few 7 and far between, which 
reach us from that higher state. On the one hand, 
we ' hear a voice from heaven saying, Blessed are 
the dead which die in the Lord ; for they rest from 
their labours : M on the other hand, we see a vision 
as of living creatures c round about the throne, which 
rest not day and night ; and give glory and honour 
and thanks to Him that sits on the throne, who 
liveth for ever and ever.' 5 And again we hear the 
sweet plaintive tones of a still small voice, which 
saith, ' Come unto Me, all ye that labour and are 
heavy laden, and I will give you rest ' \ 6 but it is 
mingled with the stirring, cheering, strengthening 
sounds, * as it were of a trumpet talking with us ' : 7 

3 John xiv. 2. 4 Rev. xiv. 13. 5 Rev. iv. 8. 

6 Matt. xi. 28. 7 Rev. iv. 1. 



serm. xiv. THE FAITHFUL SERVANT 157 

1 Well done, good and faithful servant : thou hast 
been faithful over a few things, I will make thee 
ruler over many things. Enter thou into the joy 
of thy Lord.' 8 

8 Matt. xxv. 



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